


Different Paths

by jaimistoryteller



Series: Paths Taken [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Alec and Q meet when Q is underage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Sex, Angst, BAMF Q, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Demi Q, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death(s), Multi, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rimming, Russian Naming Practices, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Triad Verse, Unwilling Betrayal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 132
Words: 269,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8576473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimistoryteller/pseuds/jaimistoryteller
Summary: Soulmates Alec Trevelyan and James Bond find themselves at odds when Alec is given a mission that he assumes that James knows about. But they’ve both been betrayed. James’ briefing isn’t the same as Alec's. Alec’s life undercover is hard, and becomes harder once he learns his soulmate has been killed. Feelings of guilt and anger cause him to fight back against MI6 for his loss. When James turns up unexpectedly, he is shocked to find his soulmate is still alive - a soulmate who attempts to kill him and sets a chain of events into motion that he never would have expected.





	1. Broken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zephyrfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/gifts).



> I've tagged this with "Platonic Relationship" because for the first year of Alec and Jon's (Q) relationship there is nothing sexual about it, that includes the time while Jon is 17. They're physically affectionate: cuddling, sleeping side by side, soothing each other's nightmares, but that's it.
> 
> I have also tagged this with "Russian Naming Practices". During the course of writing this I learned a few interesting things about Russian names, folks who know me know I use a lot of descriptive titles for people, well in this story I use those, and I also use the many varieties of names a person can have based on who is talking and the relationship between characters. Those are listed in the FQA rather than in a notes page here.
> 
> This story spans a twelve year period, so there are time hops, there will be a note about the time hop in the chapter notes if it is not made immediately clear in the chapter
> 
> When I first signed up to do the triad verse big bang, I didn't realize the tale I was going to write was going to get so massive, but there you have it, the muses at work. It took over, even when I needed to work on other things, wanting all the attention and making it hard to focus. Despite the difficulties, and frustration it caused doing that (cause seriously, I wanted to work on my Sherlock stories at times and it just went nope), I am very pleased with how it's come out.
> 
> *waves* hi folks, I hadn't planned to post this until the 28th, which is when I will be posting the rest of this, however my cat managed to hit 'post' while I was away from the laptop. I would still appreciate comments on the chapters, tell me what you think happened, what you love, what you hate (politely please), did it make you feel something? I have at least two more stories I will be writing for this verse, and those comments will be considered as I do so. If anyone is interested in seeing the timeline for events, drop me a comment and I'll post it in the FQA.
> 
>   **Communication types throughout this story:**  
>  "speaking"  
>  _'speaking on the phone or comms'_  
>  _"sign language"_  
>  -text message, instant messenger- 
> 
> The characters Dayesi, Pyotr, Lidiya and Nadiya all belong to Zephyrfox, she is just letting me borrow them for a bit to play with them
> 
> Finally, thank you to [NoOrdinarySouthernGirl,](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOrdinarySouthernGirl/pseuds/NoOrdinarySouthernGirl) [Zephyrfox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox) and [Simply_Isnt_On](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Simply_Isnt_On/pseuds/Simply_Isnt_On) for all your help and support while I was writing this. Thank you to aunt_zelda for the musical playlists that can be found on [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL1wtkJXzDLH_0dk_KBpJB6uz40sMg1d70) or [8Tracks](http://8tracks.com/aunt_zelda/different-paths-triad-verse-big-bang-2016-mix)

Jon’s POV  
It’s a hot, muggy day when his life is changed by Valentin bringing a broken man into their home. His father carries the man on a stretcher through to the small bedroom off the back of the house with the help of one of his co-workers.

Zakhar, he thinks, studying the man, either Zakhar or Zhora. He’s still working on getting names straight, after all, he’s only been here for the last year and rarely interacts with the people his father works with.

Curious, he follows close behind, wanting to know who this person is and why the broken man is here instead of at a hospital. There has to be a reason for it, though he can’t think of a good one off the top of his head.

“Thank you Zakhar,” Valentin tells the man. Turning to him, his father requests seriously, “Help me with him, Ivan.”

Despite the fact his father has been calling him that practically since the day he got here, he still isn’t used to being called Ivan instead of Jon. Though he answers to it now, where before he thought his father was speaking to someone else.

His dark eyes slowly slide over the injured man as he walks closer to the bed. Curiously, he asks, “Who is he?”

As his father starts unfastening the broken man from the frame, he quietly answers, “He’s yours.”

Freezing in place, confusion and disbelief war within him as he stares at his father. “Mine?” he mumbles in shock.

Nodding, Valentin explains, “The soulmate marks on your sides matches his.”

Wait, what? How could this man who looks like he’s dying be one of his soulmates? This bloke is at least ten years older than him! Might even know who their other soulmate is. Will his mark fade if this bloke dies? Does that hurt?

“Ivan! Think about it later, help me save him now.” Valentin snaps, jarring him from his mind.

Blinking, he asks, “What do you need me to do?”

“First we need to get him off the stretcher. Then we need to get him undressed. Hopefully without jarring him too much,” his father replies. “God willing, I will be able to save him.”

When he first got here, he was surprised to learn that his father was a military doctor, good with computers, and part of the Russian air force at one time.

“Tell me what you need,” he states, waiting for instructions.

A look of relief flashes across his father’s face before he starts giving him instructions.

Hours seem to fly by as they work. He thanks the fact he has a strong stomach as he gets to see firsthand exactly how badly this man is broken. There are several broken ribs, left collar bone, right arm, left wrist, both his ankles, and a fracture to his skull. His entire body is covered in molting bruises, small cuts, and scrapes. There is also burn damage to the right side of his body, the worse parts being to the back and side, some look old, some look new.

“Who is he?” he asks quietly as he studies the distorted marks on the broken man’s right side. They’re like his, or would be if the skin was still smooth. The marks on the right side are exactly like his, right down to the color details. His fingers itch to reach out and touch, but he knows that’s probably not a good idea, particularly when they have had to wrap most of the stranger’s torso so the ribs can heal right.

“Janus,” Valentin answers just as quietly. “I’m not telling you anymore. The less you know from me the better. God willing, you can ask him if he makes it.”

He frowns, wanting to ask questions but deciding it might be easier to get answers from the computer, so he doesn’t continue the line of questioning.

“Right now his body is in shock, keeping him unconscious so he can heal. We want him to stay that way as long as possible.” His father tells him, “As long as he’s not in a coma, he will continue to improve.”

Nodding, he glances over Janus again, before deciding now would definitely be a good time to go find out everything he possibly can. He hasn’t told his father about his talent for computers and coding yet. It’s the reason most of his relatives hadn’t wanted him when his mum and her partners had vanished, presumed dead. They all thought he was too much trouble. The relatives through his second-fathers didn’t want him around because he wasn’t actually related.

“Come Ivan, let’s leave Janus to his rest,” Valentin suggests firmly, drawing him from his mind and the spot he seems to have stayed in.

His eyes flicker over the sleeping figure before he turns and leaves the room. He definitely needs to work on the computer for a little bit. Answers are the first thing he needs to find and the best way to do that is to go hunting for them. Something tells him he’s probably not going to like most of those answers. Not that that will actually stop him. It never has and probably never will.


	2. Awkward

Jon’s POV  
Nineteen days after Janus was brought to his home, the badly broken man starts to come out of the drug induced coma. 

He's seated in a chair in the corner of the room with a laptop balanced on his knees and a cord running to the wall so he can use the internet. Right now he’s going over everything that he can about the man called Janus, originally named Alec Trevelyan. 

As he does so, he's trying not to stare at the man stretched out on the bed. He can already sketch every detail of the taller man from the waist up. The scars, the soulmate marks, the muscles, the tattoo. How Alec's dark blonde-brown hair falls in gentle waves around his face after it’s been washed. How the burn scars give texture to Alec’s skin, giving extra ridges and whorls that his eyes are drawn to, and his fingers want to touch, much like a stim cloth.

The soulmarks, particularly the one on the side with the burns, draw his attention and fascination. Where the one that runs along his right side is smooth and unblemished, Alec’s has patches where the skin is tight and other spots where it's raised. His fingers itch to trace the familiar spirals and sharp lines that form a tree pattern and compare the difference. 

A low groan of pain draws him out of his mind and to Alec.

Gingerly, the older man shifts his shoulders, freezing in pain as the lances through him. That's not surprising, Alec has eight broken ribs, collar bone, left humerus, ulna, and radius, right wrist, and both his legs. 

“Don't move,” he suggests first in Russian then English. “You have a lot of broken bones, fresh burn damage, and a number of other abrasions.” 

Dark green-blue eyes flicker open and that strong column of neck tenses as Alec's head slowly rolls so he's in view.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs absently, trying to think if he has ever seen that particular color in eyes before. Blushing, he mumbles, “Hello.”

“Who are you?” Alec rasps, voice rough and hard to hear after so long of disuse. 

“Jonathan Markov,” he replies, not thinking to hide his name until after he's already said it, “I go by Jon, though,” he shrugs, smiling ruefully, “Most folks here insist on calling me Ivan.”

“Jon,” the one time agent repeats, eyes narrow in concentration.

He just nods. 

“Who are you?” Alec repeats, nearly growling.

Standing, he stretches and moves slowly towards the cot, “Jon Markov, you probably know Doctor Valentin Markov, probably didn't know he has a teenage son since he only learned of me a few months prior to whatever caused this.” 

He actually has a really good idea what caused this, there was a massive explosion in Cuba, and an influx of special ops soldiers from the United States following an underground terrorist group and crime syndicat trying to cause a lot of problems for Britain and the world economy. He hasn’t figure out what he feels about that yet. At seventeen he is really good with computers, often being able to outdo other hackers because of how well he remembers numbers and code combinations. So he knows what the paperwork says but he doesn't have Alec’s side of the story and he doesn't want to make any judgments until he knows both sides.

Quietly he states his intentions because he knows surprising the agent is a bad idea. Since he is better with English and knows that the injured man understands English, he sticks with it as he talks. “I'm going to pick up that glass,” he motions to it, “and help you get a drink of water, it'll make talking easier.”

Alec’s eyes narrow, a combination of disbelief and distrust filling his expression.

How to handle the situation? He wonders, it appears he has more research he needs to do. Hopefully he doesn't screw up in the meantime.

Lifting the cup, he decides to take a sip to show it’s just water before carefully offering the cup to Alec. He gets glared at as he shifts just a bit closer, holding the cup steady as his hand slips behind Alec’s head to support it as the spy takes the sip. 

When Alec is done, he sets the cup aside and goes to return to his chair, only the idiot tries grabbing his wrist and hisses in pain. 

“Stop that. I was only going to sit by my laptop.” He snaps, freezing in place because that's what his instincts says is the right choice. “Your wrist is broken, don't make it worse being paranoid.” Deciding to settle on the edge of the bed in hopes that would calm the agent down, he makes it a show of sitting down. “Look, I'll sit here.”

Slowly those fingers loosen their grasp before slipping free and softly dropping on the bed. 

Now what? He wonders, why the hell did Valentin have to be called away today? 


	3. Waking

Alec’s POV  
He's been aware of James being one of his soulmates for years. When he first went undercover he thought that James knew and agreed with his mission. He wished they had discussed it, but there hadn't been time since they had met up during the mission rather than before. Then the mission had gone to hell because the bombs went off early, burning a large portion of his right side, and leaving him in the hands of the Russian Doctor Valentin Markov to recover.

Six months after he went into deep cover he had requested news on James, and had received nothing more than a note saying ‘He lived’. For the next five years he had turned over information through dead drops and asked for news of his soulmate, and for five years he had gotten praise for the information but nothing more on James. 

Just weeks before he realized MI6 had turned on him because of a sniper that nearly killed him and put him in Valentin Markov’s care once more, he received word on James, simply stating ‘He's dead’. He hadn't wanted to live after that, and had taken twice as long to recover than it probably should have. 

When he did heal however, rage and fury were his driving force. He wanted revenge for the fact he was separated from his soulmate for so long and that his soulmate was now dead because of it. Cold fury guided his actions as he became Janus in fact and not just cover.

It took four years to get to the point where he thought his attack on MI6 would work. 

So when James was the one who showed up, he was floored. His James, the soulmate he thought he had lost and was avenging, just confirmed that he was betrayed by MI6. The only question is how much was he betrayed and was James apart of it?

In a last ditch effort to stop the madness, he had used the code that meant he was undercover and they needed to talk. When James had not reacted to the code that had once been a failsafe, he knew all hope was gone. So he played out the plot and plans, forcing his emotions down, burying them beneath his rage and fury at MI6. They had destroyed his relationship with James, he lost his soulmate because of them. They would pay.

Only things hadn't gone the way he expected, and he ended up dangling, only James holding him up by his ankle.

Sadly, for he's quite sure that this is going to be the last time he ever sees or speaks to his soulmate, he asks, “For England, James?”

Fury and ice, sadness and resignation, burn in his soulmate’s eyes as James replies frostily, “No. For me.”

Dread fills him as James let's go, he welcomes the fact it will soon be over, that death is the only option left.

Only apparently it's not, he realizes as he wakes up. His entire body feels like it's on fire, as if his skin is pulled too tightly and there are thousands of insects crawling on him.

A low groan of pain escapes his lips as he slowly tries to move his shoulders. 

“Don't move,” a soft voice suggests first in Russian then English, the British accent noticeable in the Russian. “You have a lot of broken bones, fresh burn damage, and a number of other abrasions.” 

His eyes slowly open, pain searing through his nerves as the low light nearly blinds him. Despite that, he forces himself to turn his head and look. Every single motion hurts worse than anything else he has felt. Which considering the burn damage to his right side, he is well acquainted with pain. Blinking to clear his vision, he studies the boy that is sitting in the corner, getting studied in response.

Dark brown, maybe black, eyes are framed by thin steel glasses. Dark hair blends with the shadows making it hard to see what sort of style the boy wears. Pale skin is in sharp contrast with the dark long sleeve shirt and slacks, but the boy’s feet are unexpectedly bare. 

He's startled when the boy mumbles, “Beautiful.” 

There is no way that the boy could find him beautiful. He's quite sure that the bruising and scarring keep him from being considered beautiful by anyone. Without looking in the mirror he knows that fact. After all, he can feel every single cut, bruise, and scar equalling a lot of pain for him. 

A moment later the boy drops his head, a blush staining his pale skin as he mutters, “Hello,” bashfully.

His voice is rough even to his ears, almost unfamiliar as he demands,”Who are you?”

An encouraging smile curves the boy's lips as he answers in English, “Jonathan Markov, I go by Jon,” shrugging, the smile changing slightly to reflect some other emotion. The boy continues, “Though most folks here insist on calling me Ivan.”

The only Markov he knows is the Doctor Valentin Markov, and he knows this isn't Valentin. His mouth feels like sandpaper as he repeats, “Jon,” trying the name out, testing it. It feels right, familiar even, despite the fact he has never met this boy before. Why would everyone call him Ivan here? The name is mixed in origins. Jonathan is a common English name, Markov is a Russian family name.

Jon just nods, a slightly hopeful and encouraging expression on his face.

For some reason that expression infuriates him, and he demands, “Who are you?” Wishing he wasn't in the shape he is in. After all, right now there is no way for him to defend himself, not that he actually wants to. He'd be happy if he was dead, it would hurt less - all of it. From the grief over the fact his soulmate tried to kill him to every part of his broken body. 

He's startled when the boy slides to his feet, setting the laptop on the table, and stretching his hands towards the ceiling. Quietly and slowly, practically telegraphing every movement, the boy moves towards him, answering lightly, “Jon Markov, you probably know Valentin Markov.” There's a brief hesitation as he continues as if unsure of the wording or his feelings, “Probably didn't know he has a teenage son since he only learned of me a several months prior to whatever caused this.”

The doctor has a son, did he know that? Vaguely, he can remember Valentin taking a trip to England last year, but he had been so focused on his revenge he hadn't bothered to find out why. This boy, no teenager, is Valentin’s son? From what he can tell Jon is at least sixteen, so that means he would have been born six to eight years before he went undercover. 

Why did the doctor leave this teen with him rather than treat him himself? He’s sure he is missing something, he just can’t figure out what that is. Whatever it is, is probably important. Did he damage his head during the fall too or is it just the pain making him so slow?

He almost jumps when Jon states calmly from a lot closer, “I'm going to pick up that glass,” the teen motions to it, “and help you get a drink of water, it'll make talking easier.”

He narrows his eyes at Jon, almost disbelieving how the teen is acting. That disbelief makes him very distrustful, even more than normal. 

It’s almost amusing, or would be amusing if he didn’t find the situation so aggravating, how the teen is acting. Particularly when Jon takes a sip of the water before carefully offering him the cup. One long fingered hand carefully carding through the hair at the nap of his neck and supporting his head so he can take a drink without having to focus on holding himself steady. Probably a good thing considering how damaged his body currently is and the fact he can feel himself shaking.

The water tastes a bit too much like iron for his tastes, but it makes his mouth and throat feel so much better. The dryness and scratchiness is soothed as the liquid seeps slowly down his throat.

When the glass is empty, Jon sets the glass back on the stand and turns as if to walk away.

He doesn’t know why his hand grabs the teen’s wrist, hissing in pain as the muscles move beneath the splint. Damn it, he must have broken his wrist. Despite the pain he doesn’t let go, his fingers tightening on the delicate bones

“Stop that!” Jon orders, concern filling the teens voice, confusing him because he can’t think of any reason that Jon would be concerned for him. 

Almost sighing, the teen comments, “I was only going to sit by my laptop.” Ah yes, the portable computer which cost more than most would willingly give a teenager. Did it come from Jon’s other family members? 

For a moment the teen holds still, eyes flickering over his face as if trying to find something or make a decision. “Your wrist is broken.” The teen states as if he couldn’t tell from the splint and pain making it damned difficult to keep his grip. 

“Don’t make it worse being paranoid.” Like that’s going to happen. Being paranoid kept him alive for years, though he currently should be dead and doesn’t know why he isn’t. That bothers him, he hates owing people anything and it’s a sure bet that he owes someone something for this.

Again Jon’s eyes flicker over him, dark eyes seeming a bit lighter now that they are so close. Green, he thinks, or green-hazel.

Slowly the teen settles on the edge of the bed. Despite his grip, Jon manages to not jar his arm as the teen relaxes into the spot. “Look, I’ll sit here.”

He studies Jon now that the teen is a bit closer. Sixteen or seventeen, he decides, definitely not eighteen, even if he looks a bit young. Almost too slender, though part of that could be the way Jon is dressed since he is wearing layers. Those green eyes are watching him with too much concern and understanding for someone who hasn’t seen or known the things he’s seen and done.There is no repulsion or fear, no pity, just patience. Why? 

He knows the instant his wrist can’t take any more pressure, his grip slowly loosens even though he doesn’t want to let go. His fingers slip away from the wrist he was holding to land softly on the bed with thump. He expects Jon to leave now, to move away, but the teen stays still, perched on the edge of the bed, watching him and waiting. He only wishes he knew what for. 

The hand he had just been grasping lifts up, fingers slowly running over the back of his hand in the softest of caresses. The callouses from using a computer a lot catch his attention, providing a slightly different texture to the rest of Jon’s fingers. It’s almost hypnotizing the way the teen’s hand glides across his skin, ever so carefully. Has anyone ever treated him that carefully before?

He blinks, realizing his eyes are beginning to drift shut and the pain is becoming overwhelming now that he is slowly relaxing. The way the kid is touching him is definitely something he needs to think about, but not right now. It's a matter he will definitely have to consider when his mind is a bit clearer. 

For now, well for now he is going to give into his body’s need for sleep.


	4. Small Dilemma

Jon’s POV  
When Alec starts to drift off to sleep, he finds himself in a bit of a dilemma. What should he do? Should he try to get up and return to his laptop? Should he stay where he's at? Alec fell asleep with him lightly touching the injured man’s hand, simple soft strokes for comfort. Something he had seen his mum do with both his dads most of his life when something was wrong. He wants to take his time studying Alec, wants to learn everything he can. He wants to find out if the visible differences feel different but is that pushing the boundaries? He doesn’t want to press too far, because he can bet that Alec has a lot more boundaries than he does, even if the agent doesn’t realize it. 

Staying, he decides as he glances at Alec’s relaxed face, seeming a lot younger in slumber. The signs of pain are there, but the distrust and suspicion aren’t. 

He lifts the hand not currently stroking Alec’s hand hesitantly, fingers ghosting just above the taller man’s face, able to feel the warmth of skin. Concerned, because what if Alec has a fever? He presses his wrist to the older man’s forehead, relieved when it’s not too hot. Well that’s good. Softly, he trails his hand down the side of Alec’s face, tracing downwards to the agent’s throat. There is a nice strong pulse there. 

Smiling, he twists his upper body around a bit, and continues his path downwards a bit. His eyes follow his hand, skimming over the warm flesh and firm muscles. When he reaches the soulmarks, he ghosts his hand over the stylized thunderstorm that has gradually changed over the years. When he was small it was mostly wind and clouds, made of swirls and whorls, some parts a bit darker than others, giving the impression of clouds in movement or before a storm. As he got older, the mark morphed, adding harsh lines and light streaks that he has assumed are for lightning. 

What made the marks change? He wonders, what led to the mostly peaceful clouds turning into something not? 

Eventually he will make it a point to ask, but not now, not until it is appropriate. For one thing, he’s not planning on telling Alec they are soulmates anytime soon, not unless directly asked, because there is no reason to add that stress to the mix. Maybe after the agent starts healing, when things aren’t as stressful. For now, well, he’ll just stay close and be helpful. He’ll be eighteen in a few months, which is handy.

He’s pulled from his musings by the door quietly swinging open, Valentin stepping through and freezing in place with a questioning look on his face.

The hand lightly skimming over the soulmark tree, either an oak or rowan according to his research, lifts to place a single finger before his lips for quiet. 

Valentin nods, watching him with an extremely speculative expression on his face. 

He gradually slows the soft strokes until his hand is holding still over Alec’s before lifting it up and careful moving away. Standing, he walks away as quietly as possible, watching his soulmate’s reaction. Noting how the older man slowly tenses up.

“Why were you sitting so close?” Valentin queries quietly. 

“He woke up for a few minutes,” he replies just as softly. “I helped him drink some water. When I went to return to my seat, he grabbed my wrist with his right hand. To keep him from making it worse, I settled on the edge of the bed. Mum used to caress dad or pop’s hands when they weren't feeling good.”

Valentin flinches but nods.

“She regretted it you know,” he states softly, eyes searching the older man’s. “Used to tell me never let someone pull me away from my soulmate or mates if I ever found them. ”

Again his father flinches but nods, hand absently touching his right hip where a probably faded lily rests. 

Glancing back at the sleeping man, he comments, “He seemed to be calmer when I was stroking his hand.” 

“The cook has dinner done,” Valentin states in Russian. “I just got back, but I will have to go back out. Masha,” the older man motions to the woman just outside the door, “will be keeping an eye on him while we eat.”

His eyes flicker over her, taking in the plump woman with the serious expression. “Okay,” he replies, switching to Russian. He really needs practice speaking Russian more. While he has gotten better, there is still a lot of room for improvement. 

As they walk to the dining room, they discuss how their days went in Russian. He listens to Valentin describe his patient and the difficulties the doctor had. Occasionally he asks questions in order to understand certain points better. Even though it is not something he is interested in doing professionally, he still finds the field interesting and has a feeling the information would be useful considering who his soulmate is.

Eventually Valentin starts asking him questions. Nothing too difficult. Things like how his day was? What did Janus do or say while awake? How does his laptop work? Why did he get a laptop? He answers them as best as possible before asking questions of his own about Janus.

He's a bit surprised to learn that Alec was going by Aleksei Sokolov before he used Janus. The first names are similar, the last names are not, it makes him wonder if Alec picked it or someone else did. Another thing he wonders is who picked Janus? It's not surprising that Alec is known as an assassin and not open about which secret service he belongs to. It probably wouldn’t have been a good idea to be known for being with the very people he hates. Well, use to belong to. He finds it very interesting that revenge for their other soulmate is part of what drives Alec’s choices and actions. He'll have to ask Alec about that eventually, but again, not anytime soon. It’s no surprise that weapons and explosives are a strong skills set for the agent, while hacking and computers are not so much.. 

The idea that Alec has a personal code of conduct and does not take people crossing it is interesting. It makes him want to ask a lot of questions on the topic, but Valentin’s expression suggests that would not be a good idea. So it’s another thing to ask later and see if he can research in the meantime. 

Actually, he might see if there are any records of their other soulmate. That would be handy. Some reason he doesn't think it's going to be that easy. 

They are halfway through eating dinner when the single maid that Valentin pays to maintain the house comes rushing in, nearly out of breath.

“Sirs! There is a problem with the guest,” she announces, eyes wide in fear, panic in her voice as she babbles. “He’s trying to get up. Refuses to listen to Masha. He keeps demanding either of you. She offered food or pain killers, but he became vicious with her.”

Sighing, Valentin stands, apologizing to him quietly, “I am sorry Ivan, I should have expected this.”

He chuckles, giving a small shake of his head and replying, “Considering how he entered my life, it’s fine.”

When his father goes to leave, he suggests, “Wait a minute, I’ll walk with you,” before putting more food on his plate and rising.

Valentin arches a questioning eyebrow at him, but he just smiles.

His dad used to have a very hard time staying still when sick or injured. His mum and pops often had to bribe him with food and cuddles into staying still. He’ll just have to see if that works on Alec too.

Glancing at the maid he requests, “Please bring a tea service to the room with two cups. Something spicy or strong.” He pauses for a moment, before suggesting, “Maybe an extra set of silverware as well.”

Slowly she nods, giving him a peculiar look before turning towards the kitchen area.

“You have a plan?” Valentin queries, eyes flickering to the now full plate.

He nods, “I do, lead on.”

Figures he’d end up with a soulmate like the father he was closest to, John Smith, rather than one like his other two father figures, Rory Pond or Valentin Markov. He’ll just have to deal with Alec the same way mum dealt with dad. It’s a good thing he paid attention.


	5. Just Relax

Alec’s POV  
He comes to with a start, eyes staying almost shut as a he takes in the room. There is a voluptuous woman with a serious expression who is watching him like a hawk. She looks serious, the sort who enjoys her relationships, but has no bedside manner. She reminds him of a prison nurse. She’s not the type who can be seduced, but she can be bought or persuaded by other means. If he had a weak target, she's the type that would be useful for going after them.

Where’s Jon? He thinks immediately, his instincts screaming at him. Something is wrong.

His eyes open fully as he takes in the rest of the room, looking around and taking in details he missed earlier because of his focus being on Jon. He keeps his breathing slow, even, and shallow. Jon’s laptop is still sitting on the desk, closed but powered up according to the lights. There are no windows or other doors. Besides the chair she is sitting on, the desk, small dresser, nightstand and cot are the only furniture in the room.

“Where’s Jon?” he rasps out, mouth dry once more.

How long has he been asleep? Why is Jon not here? He got the impression that the teen would stay so why hadn’t he? Did someone make him leave? Did something happen to Valentin that threatened Jon?

She stands up, striding briskly across the room in just a few steps without answering. Instead she grabs the refilled water glass and a pill, thrusting them towards him with some muttered comment about painkillers. 

Fire rips through his body as he uses his splinted arm to knock them away and watches her jump backwards. 

Hissing in pain, he breathes through it to repeat himself, “Where. Is. Jon?”

She stares at him blankly.

Growling low in his throat, he uses the less broke arm to shove himself upwards, already working on plotting how he is going to get up and find Jon or Valentin. 

It's when she starts ordering him to lay back down that he realizes she's using Russian and he is using English. Maybe she doesn't know English, it's possible. He's going to blame the fact he didn't immediately notice on his pain levels. 

Switching to Russian he demands, “Where is Jon?” before recalling what the teen said about his name and correcting himself, “Ivan?”

His throat burns from trying to talk so much. His right arm is pulsing at his wrist, he can feel the tension in the muscles and the way the bones are grinding together. His left arm feels useless because nearly the entire thing from shoulder to finger tips is in splints. A glance at his legs tells him that they are broken too, so he is definitely going to have to figure out how to move about because walking probably isn't going to happen. His instincts say he needs to get out of here, to find Jon, to find James. 

James. . . James is the one who did this to him. Why? Why did his soulmate try to kill him? Why did James betray him? 

“Sir, lay back down. You need to take your pain medication.” The nurse tells him, trying to get him to listen. 

“Where is Ivan?” He snarls, considering choking her. Time to change questions. “Where is Doctor Valentin Markov?” 

She dithers as if not sure how to answer.

Growling again, he forces himself to try moving his throbbing legs towards the edge of the cot. If she won't tell him, he will find them himself.

The door opens and a smaller woman with wide eyes pops her head in. The two women speak in rapid fire Russian that he has a hard time following. What he does gather is the fact the nurse is telling this other woman that he wants the doctor or his son.

Turning her attention back to him, she tries demanding, “You have to lay down. Now. Before you injure yourself worse.”

“No.” he responds angrily.

She moves closers to the bed, when she gets within range, his hand snaps out, fingers closing around her throat tightly.

“Where. Is. Ivan. Or. Doctor. Markov?” he demands, adrenaline minimizing the pain for the moment.

“Let go of the dumb nurse and stop aggravating that wrist.” Jon orders as he steps in the room, carrying a plate of food. It takes him a minute to realize the order was in Scottish Gaelic rather than Russian or English. “I am well aware you can understand me.”

He blinks, tilting his head to look past the gasping idiot trying to claw at his splint to where the teen is standing with Valentin. Slowly his fingers release, and she falls backwards, landing on her arse with a thump, eyes wide as she drags air into her probably burning lungs.

Switching to Russian, Jon suggests to the nurse softly, “Why don't you go drink something elsewhere?”

She glances at the doctor before pushing herself to her feet and retreating without saying another word.

“How many languages do you speak, Ivan?” Doctor Markov asks with a curious glance.

Shrugging, Jon replies, “English and Scottish Gaelic I grew up with. French and Russian I learned in school and I am not as proficient with. Eventually I am going to learn Spanish and Arabic as well. It's easier for me to learn the written forms more than the spoken ones.”

Why did the teen learn French and Russian if he was already bilingual? Why were English and Scottish Gaelic the languages he grew up with? He sounds British, except the fact there was no British accent when speaking in Scottish Gaelic, and the accent seems to be fading from the Russian as he uses it more. Talented teen.

As the adrenaline slowly fades, his body burns, reminding him of all his injuries. Hissing in pain, he closes his eyes and tries to breath through it. He needs answers and he doesn't get those if he passes out.

The soft sound of the plate being set down draws his attention, and he forces his eyes open in order to see where the plate was sat down. He's only a little surprised it's on the night stand near him.

“My dad, the other John in the family, was just as bullheaded.” The teenager tells him in a conversational tone, still using Russian. “He once broke both his legs because he decided he had to go mountain climbing without formal training and fell. The only way to keep him from trying to move was for someone to stay with him at all times. Of course my pops thought that was amusing, and used it as a time for some aggressive cuddling. Sort of payback for the worry. Mum on the other hand was not amused or pleased.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as Valentin flinches, staying just out of Jon's line of sight so the teen doesn't see the reaction. For a moment, a flash of sadness fills the doctor's green eyes before it is masked again.

Apparently that doesn't stop Jon from knowing, “He flinches every time they are brought up. Had things gone differently, and mum not bowed to her family's will, the dads in my life would have been Valentin and Rory, but they didn't, so I had John and Rory instead.”

Clearing his throat, the Valentin enquires, “Why were you choking my nurse? Diligent and loyal ones are hard to find.”

He doesn't answer, too enthralled with watching the way Jon is slowly slotting himself beside him, one slender arm stretched across his back, hand bracing lightly without managing to touch any spots that burn like fire. Encouraging him to relax and stop putting pressure on his injuries.

“Hmmm, should have moved the stand closer,” the teen mutters in English. 

Chuckling, the doctor walks over to it, carefully scooting it on the floor until it's right in front of them. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you,” Jon answers in Russian.

That smells good, he thinks as his stomach reminds him that he has no idea when he last ate. Of all the pains in his body, it's the least noticeable. He's not even sure he'll be able to hold it down, but he still wants to try. He needs food to get stronger and recover.

When did he decide he wants to recover? He wonders, closing his eyes again and accepting the assistance. His body relaxes against Jon, most of the tension seeping out of him as the smaller man accepts his weight without complaint. 

His eyes flicker open slightly to watch how Jon moves.

“Could you scoot the big table over here instead?” The teen requests as he glances at the end table. Tipping his head, Jon explains, “I'd like to have access to my laptop and space for the food and tea.” 

“Once the housekeeper gets here I'll have her help me,” Valentin responds quietly. “Right now I will check to make sure he didn't hurt himself worse. I forgot how stubborn he can be.” Switching to speaking to him, the doctor continues, “Aleksei, I'm going to check your wrist, make sure the bones are still where they should be.”

He focuses in on the older man, inclining his head slightly. Only that makes his neck hurt, so he quickly straightens it.

“Focus on me instead of him,” Jon murmurs in his ear, using Scottish Gaelic. “Mum wanted to teach me Scots as well but we never did get around to it. Dad thought it was amusing that I learned how to use the language of numbers faster than any other language. It occasionally got me in trouble at school, though my parents were never mad about it. I'm using Gaelic because he doesn't understand. It bothers him that mum bowed to her family's will. I can understand, sort of, I would hate it if I was rejected because of someone telling my partner they had to.”

He barely nods his head, just enough that Jon can feel it. That is understandable. Unfortunately it reminds him that James tried killing him. His soulmate rejected him. He just wants to know why before he rips James’ heart out for this. Since he is going to live, well, revenge is something he excels at and wants.

“Maybe wait until you're feeling better before plotting revenge,” Jon suggests softly in his ear, still in Scottish Gaelic. 

He blinks, confused because he didn't realize he was speaking aloud. He doesn't want to talk about how James betrayed him. It hurts too much. “Talk about something,” he requests, needing the distraction. 

Jon presses his nose softly against the side of his head, voice quiet as he starts talking. 

His eyes closed as he listens to the teenager speak, the soft bur of his Russian soothing. He listens to how Jon was growing up. The fact the younger man had to learn how to cope with different textures. How he learned numbers and how to use computers because of his love of numbers. He learns about some of Jon's cousins, and how they can't stand the teen because he doesn't play their politics or games. He learns about the pets Jon has had over the years and the fact the teen prefers cats to dogs. That's good, he prefers cats too.

As Valentin checks his other injuries, he continues to focus on Jon. 

Why is he so interested in this teen, he wonders tiredly. Jon's too young for him, yet he is drawn to him. 

When the door opens, his eyes snap open and he zeros in on the small Russian woman who comes through the door. She pauses for a minute to stare at the way he is leaning against the teen before moving the rest of the way into the room. 

“Help me move this table, carefully please,” Valentin tells the housekeeper, motioning to the table. 

“Very carefully please, that laptop costs more than I care to call the solicitor about to get the funds released,” Jon states firmly.

Why would the solicitor be the ones with the funds? He asks himself before realizing it has to be because Jon is officially a minor.

Once everything is situated, the teen thanks the pair politely.

He blinks in shock when they leave, leaving him alone with Jon. Is that really safe? He wonders, startling himself with the concern. Tensing up, he considers moving when Jon’s arm tightens around his back.

“Just relax, if you were going to hurt me you would have given it a shot or succeeded before now,” the teen murmurs against the side of his head again. 

Closing his eyes, he focuses on breathing for a minute, he must be in horrible condition to keep giving so much away.


	6. First Meal

Alec’s POV  
Several minutes are spent with him merely trying to relax against Jon’s side. When he is sure that he has his nerves back under control, he opens his eyes. Using his peripheral vision, he watches as the younger man stays still beside him, eyes open only the slightest bit, making the green seem a bit more gray.

Eventually his stomach reminds him again that it’s been a long while since he last ate.

“I have silverware for you,” Jon remarks offhandedly in Russian. “I figured you wouldn’t accept a liquid or soft diet for the moment.”

He snorts softly, a soft huff of air escaping his lips. “You’d be right.”

“How do you take your tea?” the teen queries.

A frown flickers across his lips. He hasn’t been a big fan of tea for the last few years. He’s not sure why he is surprised that Jon, whose accent in English gives away the fact he is a Londoner, likes tea.

“The tea is more to flush your system right now,” Jon remarks as he starts to pour the tea between two cups. “So what do you want in it?”

“Sugar,” he responds, watching as the smaller man carefully lifts the cup with the arm not around him.

“Okey-dokie,” Jon replies, there is something playful in his tone.

The only sounds in the room are their breathing and the sound of the tea splashing softly. Once it is mixed, Jon lifts it up only to set it back down.

“Perhaps you should scoot back against the wall, it might make it easier. If you’d rather not, that’s all right. I can work with that too.” The teen suggests gently.

He considers both options, knowing that moving against the wall would probably be a good idea. Yet he feels more comfortable and relaxed than he likes to admit right where he is at. He presses his lips together as he makes his choice, and stays where he is.

“Here,” he answers roughly.

Jon nods slightly, arm slipping up his back carefully as he lifts the cup with his other arm. “I’m betting your throat is sore. The spices and heat should help sooth it.”

He nods slightly, barely moving his head. He's actually a bit dizzy now that he's calming down and has less adrenaline rushing through his system.

“Let me do the work,” the teen suggests. “You just focus on breathing.”

Carefully, Jon brings the cup to his lips, helping him sip at the tea. 

It's warm and wet and spicy. It burns going down, but in the best possible way. Almost immediately, he starts to feel a bit more alert. His eyes flicker over the plate, taking note of what's on the plate. 

“Some of the beef,” he requests.

“The stroganoff or the roast beef?” Jon enquires, motioning to two different ones on the plate. “I've found that roast beef is really tasty. The stroganoff is alright.”

He huffs out a chuckle, “Either.”

“Okay,” the teen replies, picking up the fork next to tea pot and spearing a piece of the roast. 

Time seems to drag as Jon feeds him and takes a turn getting a few bites for himself. Every three or four bites, the teen asks if he wants something to drink. 

Eventually, he shakes his head, muttering, “No more.” His stomach is not happy with him, solid food might not have been a good idea, but then, not the first time he’s done this. 

“Full?” the younger man asks to confirm.

“Yes,” he answers, feeling tired again.

“How about we get you laid down again so you can take a nap,” Jon suggests putting all the silverware on the table. “First, let's get you all the way on the cot.”

Carefully, the smaller man moves away from him, and he immediately feels the loss of warmth and security. It’s like an ache within his bones, he wants Jon to stay next to him. Not thinking about it, his arm snaps out, tensing the muscles and making him hiss in pain as his fingers close around the smaller man's wrist again.

Sighing, Jon murmurs, “You don't learn very easily, do you. I'm not going anywhere, we're just getting you resituated so you may lay down and relax.”

He can feel the way his skin heats up in embarrassment.

The teen’s voice is gentle as he states, “It’s alright, just take a few shallow-long breaths, while I get your splinted legs back on the bed.” 

He nods, wanting to help but knowing he is not going to be when he can already feel shooting pain rushing through his limbs. Every inch of his body is on fire, his muscles tense and pained, the bones achy and itchy in equal measures. 

Jon is careful as he moves his limbs, barely putting any pressure on his limbs as he does so. Almost as soon as his legs are straightened he falls back on the bed, eyes closing tightly at the wave of pain washes through him.

“You probably won’t take the painkillers, huh?” Jon enquires as he settles along the edge of the bed, one hand coming up lightly card through his hair, fingertips rubbing his scalp.

He keeps his eyes closed as he answers, “No.”

He can just about hear the smile in the teen’s voice as Jon comments, “That’s what I figured. There are a lot of ways you’re like da.”

Silence falls over them as the younger man get’s comfortable and he buries his head against the side of Jon’s leg, trying not to put pressure on his arm or ribs while still trying to seek contact. Why does he want the contact? He can’t recall ever feeling like this before, not even with James. 

James. . . 

That’s a topic he doesn’t want to think about. Actually he doesn’t want to think of anything right now. Maybe the painkillers would be a good idea, no matter how much he really hates them. 

When Jon starts singing softly, voice lightly crooning as the teen keeps carding his hair and rubbing his scalp, he finds himself drifting off to sleep. This is definitely something he needs to think about when he has a clearer head. For now, well, the sweet lure of sleep is too much to resist. 


	7. Research

Jon’s POV  
James, he repeats in his head, their other soulmate is named James. 

Well then, he will comb through Alec’s life as much as possible to see if he can figure out which James it is. He’s already gotten most of the missions and work history on the agent. Knows all about how Alec was recruited as a teenager to MI6 and became a Royal Marine. For the next five years, Alec duel careered, quickly rising through the ranks in both. Then in 1989 Alec’s records show him being sent to Arkhangelsk but nothing more, it doesn’t say what happened to him or why. That's where he should probably start.

Now how to grab his laptop without disturbing Alec? 

Thankfully with the table closer to the bed, he might be able to tug it towards him and type with his left hand. He keeps his right hand lightly playing with Alec's hair as he reaches carefully for the laptop and pulls it closer. It is nearly where he needs it when he realizes that the tea services is in his way. Sighing at himself for not noticing sooner, he moves both cups and the pot of nearly gone tea before finishing pulling the laptop up. 

He’ll be doing the peck and click sort of typing that he is not a fan of, but he’ll live. He’d rather keep Alec sleeping as long as possible.

Actually, tomorrow he will see about relocating them to his bedroom. There is a bigger and more comfortable bed there. He’s got a feeling after the display today where Alec nearly killed the nurse, he’s going to be the older man’s primary care giver. If that’s the case, they need to be somewhere where both of them can get comfortable and this cot is definitely not it.

As soon as the laptop is close enough for him to work it, he opens it and clicks the power button, thankful that it is plugged in so he will not have to worry about running out of battery while working. 

The next several minutes are spent getting everything ready to go. It takes more time than normal because he is only using one hand. Once it is set, he drops into the zone that focuses all his mind on the numbers and codes dancing in fronts of his eyes. His hand never stops carding through Alec’s hair as he continues. It’s slow going by his standards, though still faster than any of the idiots he went to school with. 

What does he need? Any information he can find on Alec from the five years he was an agent and the nine years following. Any information on a James that is close to Alec to see if it might be their James. As much possible research as he can pull out of the MI5 and MI6 computers without alerting them to his presence. It might not be something he can do while only using one hand. He’s confident in his abilities when he has both, not so much when just his left.

Hours pass as he absorbs the information, filing it away in the back of his mind and his private ghost server for later. He accidently sets off an alarm on the MI6 system and has to stop carding Alec’s hair long enough to quickly write and back door a code to erase his presence in their computer. Better to let them think someone in their office is being foolish or made a mistake. It might not be nice, but he makes it look like the bloke typing up the information on Alec Trevelyan and James Bond, 006 and 007, is the one who made the error. 

He’s moderately certain that James Bond is the one that Alec was muttering about, but doesn’t actually plan on asking right now. Chances are the agent will still be around when he is ready to ask Alec, and more importantly, when Alec is ready for him to ask. It’s definitely not something he is going to do any time soon because he does not want to cause any more stress to either. 

A low hiss of pain draws his attention just as he finishes the code and uploads. 

He actually has to stop himself from laughing as he watches the codes dance before him. Someone is trying to figure out whether that is original coding or new coding, and failing. Numbers and codes are a beautiful thing, he thinks as he gives a small shake of his head and draws his attention back to Alec.

“Hi,” he murmurs with a small smile as he glances down and sees those beautiful blue-green eyes partly open and watching him. There is a glaze to them that he assumes is due to the pain.

“What are you doing?” Alec rasps out, eyes flickering to his now blank screen.

“Research,” he responds smoothly, not lying but not being exact. Whenever possible he avoids lying, and he plans to keep that standard with Alec as well. He’s moderately certain there have rarely been honest people in Alec’s life. 

Eyes drifting shut the older man asks, “Why?”

“It’s what I do,” he answers with a small shrug even though he knows that Alec probably can’t see it. His right hand returns to lightly carding the agent’s hair as he queries, “Thirsty?”

“No.” Alec replies steadily. The older man’s skin turns a rather interesting shade of carmine as he mutters, “Loo.”

He nods again, not thinking about the fact it can’t be seen. “Give me a minute to get the wheelchair and I will take you to the bathroom and wait outside. I’d suggest a bedpan-” Alec’s eyes snap open to glare at him, “but I suspect you wouldn’t take that very well, even before you start glaring.”

Carefully, he extracts himself from the bed, fetching the wheelchair, and scooting the table out of the way. To make sure his laptop doesn’t get broken, he moves it to the center of the table. He has a feeling this is going to be a very frustrating trip to the loo. Definitely needs to see about relocating them to his room, his attached bathroom would make everything so much simpler.


	8. Changing Rooms

Jon’s POV  
Several minutes later he’s managed to get Alec from the bed to the wheelchair to the bathroom without doing too much more damage to his soulmate’s already broken body. 

While he is waiting for the agent, he hums under his breath, codes dancing behind his eyes as he considers what to do next. His mind is in the process of going through the data when Valentin comes up to him, a concerned expression on his father’s face.

“I’ve been called out again, not sure what time I will be back. Most of the people I work for died at the time Aleksei was injured, but there is just enough left to keep me busy.” Valentin comments in Russian with a small shake of his head. “Will you need any help? I don’t think Masha is willing to do anything with Aleksei after what happened this afternoon.”

“I’d like to relocate us to my room. There is a bigger bed and an en suite so it will make things easier,” he replies in Russian, barely thinking about it. 

His father looks very hesitant about the idea, but eventually nods in agreement. “As soon as he is done, let’s get that out of the way.” There is a brief pause before Valentin asks softly, “Are you sure that is a good idea?”

“Yes,” he answers with a nod, waiting to hear the toilet flush. “It's an excellent idea. More comfortable for one, more space for another, and less like a cell for a third.”

“True,” the doctor remarks, nodding slightly. “Those are all true points. I'm just concerned about your privacy.”

Chuckling, he states, “Some reason I don't think privacy is a word he knows or respects.” 

A small smile flickers across Valentin’s face as he nods in agreement.

They spend a few minutes in companionable silence while they wait. Eventually he hears the toilet flush and the sink next to it running. 

Wrapping his knuckles lightly on the door, he states, “Opening the door now.” He's not going to surprise the agent any more than he has to, nor will he threaten him if he doesn’t have to, since both seem like really bad ideas. Pulling the door open, he peeks his head in before stepping in himself to be glared at. “Stop that, I helped clean you up night one and gave you sponge baths since, I'm well aware of what your body looks like.” 

That seems to startle the older man for a moment, because Alec’s features goes blank for a moment, giving him enough time to slip in and make sure the wheelchair is turned in the right direction and locked. 

“Now then, instead of going back to the small room down the hall, we are going to my room,” he informs Alec in English with narrow eyes. “Once I have you situated, I am fetching my laptop, because I don't want a housekeeper who makes less than it is worth in a year touching it. You are going to behave while I do that. That means staying in bed, no large movements or stressing your breaks. Just lay there and relax.”

“If I don't?” the agent asks softly, an edge he is sure a lot of people would call dangerous to his voice. 

Bracing himself on the back of the empty wheelchair, he leans in just a bit so they are face to face, his green eyes locked with Alec’s green-blue. “I'm not a nice person when pissed Alec. You might be the spy and have years of experience on me, but I still can make your day hell if I have to. I would really prefer not to.” His voice is a low hiss with just an edge of fury and steel filling it. Straightening up, he returns to the softer tones he prefers using, “So let's get you moved to the chair so we can get you to the room. I have the only downstairs bedroom because I did not want to be upstairs. It appears that will be useful here.”

Alec is quiet, eyes watching him speculatively as he slips around the chair so they are right next to each other. Thankfully the older man works with him, not making himself heavier by over relaxing and dead weighting. Carefully he moves the taller man into the wheelchair, covering him up with a sheet that he has sitting on the counter.

“Ready?” he asks softly.

Alec’s voice is reedy as he replies, “Yes.”

Carefully he backs the wheelchair out of the bathroom until his back is nearly against the wall at which point he turns it towards his room instead of the other room. The trip there is quiet, and when they get to the door he is surprised to find Valentin already waiting for them. 

“You're sure?” His father queries with a tip of his head in Russian. 

He merely raises an eyebrow, not repeating himself. 

Opening his door, Valentin holds it for him so he can push Alec into the room and over to the bed.

“So my bed is a bit higher than the cot, but it's also twice as big and far more comfortable.” He tells Alec, coming around the side of the wheelchair. 

Green-blue eyes meet his as Alec nods. 

Smiling mischievously, he remarks, “Since you have scared the nurse, I'll be the one dealing with you. Now let's see if I can easily get you between the chair and bed without too much problem. Otherwise you're going to have to deal with the nurse.”

“Fine,” the agent agrees, voice harsh again.

He takes a minute to study Alec and his bed as the numbers whirl in his mind. Once he has the logistics of it figured out, he braces himself to carefully but firmly take hold of Alec’s shoulders and quickly move him over. It's probably not how a medically trained person would, but it works for him. 

Alec lands on the bed with a soft hiss of pain, eyes shutting tightly as he breathes through his mouth for a few minutes. 

“Done that before?” Valentin queries from the spot near the end of the bed.

He shakes his head, “No, but it’s all math.”

“How do you figure?” his father queries as he folds the wheelchair up to tuck it out of the way. 

Returning to the bed, he makes sure nothing is snagging on the splints and they are all where they are supposed to be before covering the taller man up once more with the sheet, and asking, “You going to be alright for ten minutes so I can fetch the laptop?”

Alec’s eyes open, mischief and sarcasm filling his voice as the older man replies, “I better be, now hadn’t I?”

He smiles in response, absently brushing the brown hair back as he nods, murmuring, “Rest,” in Scottish Gaelic before straightening to leave the room for a minute.

Quickly he turns and strides from the room, Valentin falling in beside him as he moves. 

“You are very comfortable with him.” His father remarks curiously.

Shrugging, he answers, “I’ve seen the man completely naked and at his physical worst, no reason not to be.” Tilting his head as he walks, he comments, “I don’t plan on undressing in his line of sight any time soon. He doesn’t need to know we have matched marks.” 

“Probably best,” Valentin agrees as they reach the other room. 

“Now is not the time to have that come to light or be discussed. After he is healed would be better, then he can leave if he wants.” He explains as he closes the laptop and unhooks it. “We’ll discuss it later.”

“I hope for your sake he accepts that answer,” his father comments worriedly.

His eyes narrow as he glances over at the doctor. “He’ll accept that answer because I know literally everything, and I can easily find out anything that I am missing.”

Valentin flinches, taking an involuntary step back as his eyes widen.

Lifting the laptop, he motions to the door, “Don't worry, we'll be fine.”

Nodding, his father comments, “I'll send Svetlana in to get you something to drink and snack on.”

“Thank you,” he answers as he turns to head back to his room.


	9. Resting

Jon’s POV  
Returning to his room, he is relieved and a bit surprised to find Alec where he left the agent. He had half expected the older man to move on pure stubbornness, so he is thankful that he was mistaken.

Slipping through the door, he heads over to his desk to set the laptop back up, eyes occasionally flickering over his soulmate.

“Soulmate,” he repeats to himself, trying it in Scottish Gaelic first, keeping his voice low enough to not be heard at the bed. He has to stop himself from touching the tree along his side as his eyes return to the agent.

Alec’s asleep? He wonders, eyes narrowing and watching, over the last few days he’s had a chance to learn exactly what slumber looks like on the older man. This isn’t it. Why is the older man faking?

Doesn’t matter, he decides, standing and stretching. How would da have dealt with this? Probably by acting like he was ignoring the situation until he had more information at which point he would do something excitable as he used that information. Of his parents, the one he had understood the best was the one who wasn’t a member of the soulmate triad.

Closing his eyes, he reaches his hands toward the ceiling, knowing his shirt will not ride up enough to show his marks.

Act calm and happy even when your insides are screaming Jon, it makes people have no idea how to treat you. His dad had answered one night when he asked why John rarely showed anger, pain, or sadness. Seem calm even when everyone else is excited and excited when everyone else is calm. Don’t rush to conclusions, particularly about motivation until you know as much as you can. Second and third chances are needed for many. Some need even more, only people who don’t want the chance should not be given one. Never stop learning, even things you might not find interesting could be useful sometimes. There had been hours of advice, hours of practicing things his other parents didn’t understand or approve of, hours of being accepted and rejoiced for being different.

Turning to the bed, he quickly crosses the room, perching on the edge to reach out and press his wrist to Alec’s forehead, “I know you’re awake, your breathing is a bit different when you are sleeping or passed out.”

He thinks for minute the older man is not going to respond when Alec’s eyes finally start to open, mere slits he can barely see the green-blue through but it’s more than enough.

“Hello,” he states softly in Russian, it’s nice to have someone who understands him when he bounces languages without any issues. Perhaps in the future the assassin would be willing to work with him on his languages. His Russian is improving daily, side effect of living somewhere where he uses it daily. Unfortunately, his French wasn’t as good and probably wouldn’t be improving any time soon.

When dealing with an injured person, expect the worst reaction every time, John told him once when his da had a patient who kept reinjuring themselves by lashing out.

Sure enough, Alec reacted badly. He’s quite sure that if the older man didn’t have broken ribs and legs, the trick might of worked. He isn’t the nurse expecting compliance, so when the fingers close around the top of his shirt, he throws himself into a roll, moving them from the edge of the bed to the middle of the bed. Startling Alec enough that the agent’s grip falters just long enough for him to make sure he lands on top. He’s moderately certain it hurt like a bitch, but definitely better doing that on the bed than the floor.

“Now that we got that out of the way, I swear you put da to shame with the stubbornness in that regard,” he mutters with a rueful shake of his head. “Why are you trying to re-injure yourself?”

“How do you know that name?” the agent hisses furiously, eyes narrow as he is glares.

“I’m sure that glare is more impressive when more than half your body is not splinted and wrapped because of _broken bones._ ” He snaps, keeping his weight on his knees, but body close enough that with the legs splinted the way they are Alec is not moving. “I’m good with computers. Valentin didn’t want to tell me too much, worried about my reaction or something. But then, he never met dad, which might be a good thing, because he was the most unconventional parent I had. Also the one I seem to be the most like despite the lack of genetic connection.”

He needs Alec to calm down, at least a little bit, because this is not good for the injuries. Absently, he lays his hand over top of the one grasping his collar, thumb lightly stroking the warm skin there.

Confusion enters those blue-green eyes still glaring at him.

Instead of speaking, he calmly keeps stroking that trembling hand. Eventually Alec’s wrist is going to protest this, he just has to have out wait the agent. Not a big deal.

Silence stretches, tension rising and he really wishes he could just curl himself around the older man to protect him from whatever nightmare is going on behind those beautiful eyes. There’s something there, that’s for sure, because Alec is acting like he is confused. So he needs to get his soulmate to relax. That’s the key here.

Tipping his head and continuing to wait for those long fingers to release his shirt, he starts talking softly, pitching his voice for comfort. “I wish they weren’t gone. I think you would have gotten along wonderfully with da.”

He murmurs in Scottish Gaelic, “There are a lot of similarities between you two, many I am sure you would prefer I not realize. But then, I am sure you don’t want anyone realizing many of those traits, not just the teenager whose care you are currently in.”

His lips quirk up in a smile, “That’s probably grating your nerves, teens aren’t supposed to anticipate and roll with something that’s supposed to be an attack.”

He’s aware of his expression softening, “You don’t trust me, that’s fine, but stop trying to injure yourself worse. That will only make the healing process take that much longer.”

“Why do you care?” Alec nearly snarls, pain lacing his voice, hand tightening slightly beneath his fingers.

“Because I can,” he answers simply, catching the older man’s gaze and holding it.

It’s not all that surprising when those fingers tighten for an instant before the taller man tries throwing him off. He could easily stay right where he is, but as that is not the goal, he rolls with it. One moment he kneeling with his legs on either side of Alec’s hips, and yes that is definitely something to consider when he is by himself, the next he is on the edge of the bed, trying not to laugh his ass off as he sprawls on his back.

Da and Alec would definitely get along.

When there is a soft knock at the door, he rolls off the edge of his bed, landing on his feet in order to stand and stretch. Quietly, he pads over to the door, he can feel Alec’s eyes following him as he opens it up to reveal Svetlana on the other side with another tea service and small selection of finger foods.

Accepting the tray, he comments in Russian, “Thank you, that will be all for this evening.”

She dithers for a moment, concern in her dark brown eyes as she tries glancing past him and failing, before finally nodding and bidding him, “Goodnight sir, I will be finishing the other room then going home.”

He nods, commenting, “I’ll be up at seven am if you want to come see if I survived the evening.”

Her skin turns peach colored as she ducks her head and leaves.

Shaking his head, he mutters under his breath about people needing to relax, as he shuts the door with his heel and uses his elbow to click the over head off. Carefully he carries the tray over to the nightstand, setting it down before clicking the light on.

“Tea or snack?” he asks softly.

For a moment the older man closes his eyes before answering, “Tea.”

He nods, carefully making the cup as he had been instructed earlier, before perching on the edge of the bed. “I’m guessing you’d appreciate sitting up so you can drink this.”

A glare is the only answer he receives.

“Well then, let’s get you resituated,” he suggests, scooting just a bit higher on the bed before carefully looping his arms under Alec’s to scoot him up managing to snag a pillow with a quick wrist twist just as he helps the taller man settle into place. “Thankfully, considering everything else you broke, you didn’t break your pelvis because that could have made things a bit complicated.”

There is a slight nod from the agent in understanding or agreement, he doesn’t know.

Twisting around, he grabs the cup to slowly offer some to Alec who lightly sips at it.

Once the cup is empty, he sets it aside, grabbing his to drink probably too fast. He sort of wants to snack, but sort of doesn’t. Eyeing the options, he decides to move them to his desk for the moment.

“Loo?” he queries once it has been moved.

“No,” Alec answers quietly.

“Alright,” he comments. “I’m going to get a quick shower. I might take a nap after that, because I have been awake for the last twenty-seven hours.”

His soulmate just barely moves his head in a nod.

Collecting his things from the dresser, he heads into the attached bathroom, not bothering to fully shut the door so he can hear if Alec moves, at least a little bit. There is no way someone with splints and casts starting at the midfoot and going to the mid thigh is getting up and walking, even though that stubborn arse agent has already tried. Once in the bathroom and out of line of sight of the bedroom, he turns the water on and quickly strips.

Climbing in the shower, he takes his time tracing his fingers over both soulmarks. They are changing again.

His tree is becoming more defined, the branches spreading out to resemble a rowan tree more than the oak he originally thought it might be and its roots are becoming more detailed. The tree has grown as well, before it only covered a small portion of his side, now it starts just over his hip and stretches to just below his armpit. There are even new colors to it, instead of the blacks, grays, and shadowy browns. The trunk is more amber colored than shadowy, with darker shades of brown highlighting the texture of the bark. The leafs are turning shades of green and gold, as if finally blossoming to life, shades of cyan and turquoise mixed in.

His storm cloud on the other hand is nearly black with silver highlights, deep amber and jagged lines make the lightning, looking far more turbulent than he can ever remember it appearing, almost like burn scars actually. The spirals and swirls that indicate wind have become harsher as if the storm is worse than ever. Despite that, the storm has not grown or shrank, which is mildly surprising. When his fingers ghost over it, it feels hot to the touch, as if there is a fever within the soulmark.

Shaking his head, he grabs a flannel and quickly sets to washing himself, scrubbing his entire body quickly and rinsing off. Hanging the flannel up, he grabs the shampoo and quickly cleans his hair before rinsing.

Once he is sure he is clean, he stands there and lets the water pour down his face, keeping his eyes closed as he tries not to cry. Now is not the time for tears. That will come later when he knows Alec will be fine and heal. Perhaps he will write his mum a letter even though she will probably never receive that letter. He misses her and his dads. Valentin is trying, but sometimes it is just not enough.

Taking a deep breath, he focuses the way his dad taught him, opening his eyes so they can be flushed by the water before turning it off.

He can hear Alec starting to fidget and quickly dresses, happy that his preference of long clothes will hide what he is not ready to share.

Dropping his dirty clothes in the laundry and hanging the towel up to dry, he heads back into the bedroom proper. Stopping just inside the door to study how his soulmate has shifted closer to the side of the bed he favors, scooting down so Alec’s head is on the pillows. Looking as if the taller man is having a hard time getting comfortable.

“Would you like me to read aloud?” he asks as he moves further into the room.

Alec freezes in place for a moment before relaxing slightly into the bedding, green-blue eyes meeting his. Only the smallest motion of the agents head lets him know the older man agrees.

“Preference?” he queries, moving towards the bookshelf on the far wall.

He makes sure to glance over in case Alec uses non-verbal responses.

“No,” the older man answers roughly.

Eyes flickering over his eclectic book collection, he selects a tale of friendship written in French before turning to return to the bed. Climbing on to the bed, he gets himself situated close to Alec without pressing them against each other.

It’s actually the older man who shuffles closer, so their bodies are pressed lightly together. Alec’s right arm drapes carefully across his chest, long fingers twitching slightly. He bites back a smile as the agent’s head presses against his hip, arm folding between them and left hand lightly grabbing at his shirt.

He carefully wraps his arm across his soulmate’s shoulders, right hand sneaking into the soft hair at the nape of Alec’s neck to lightly card through the hair and rub the agent’s scalp. With his left hand, he opens the book and balances it on the knee he folds upwards for just that purpose. His voice is soft and sure as he reads the story, eyes occasionally jumping from the page to Alec’s face. In the time between pages he listens to the older man’s breathing as it slowly steadies out, and Alec drops into sleep. Eventually he sets the book aside but doesn’t bother to turn the light out, he had learned the first night that his soulmate does not react well to dark places.

Carefully inching downwards, he continues to card his fingers through Alec’s hair as the older man’s head comes to rest just below his sternum. His eyes drift shut as he continues to play with that soft hair and listen to Alec’s slow and occasionally pained breathing.

This is good, he thinks, this is right. Now he just has to wait Alec out, eventually the older man will come to trust him, it will just take time.


	10. Familial Reflection

Valentin’s POV  
Climbing into the car sent by the client, he settles into the back seat. The ride there will take roughly an hour, that’s both plenty- and not nearly- enough time to think of Ivan and what he knows of his surprising son.

Jonathan Valentinovich Markov.

Why had Milya named their son following mostly the Russian customs? Particularly when she never even told him he has a son? It wasn't until her triad vanished that he learned of the teen. His son. . . That is still something that surprises him every time he says or thinks it.

Ivan, he thinks, Jon. His son is full of surprises. 

When the solicitor first contacted him about Vanya, he had thought that there must be a mistake. The solicitor convinced him after providing all the original documentation of Milya’s pregnancy and their marriage, all thirteen months of it. He had always wondered why she had divorced him rather than having it annulled, but that explains it. The Church wouldn’t allow an annulment if there is a child.

When he had finally wrapped his head around the concept of having a son, he had taken some time to go to London to fetch the boy, not knowing what to expect. The first time he saw Ivan, he had stopped and stared. His son was a blend of himself and Milya, there was no questioning that. He could see himself in Vanyai’s eyes and hair, and Milya in his features and skin tone.

He’d been surprised when Ivan had turned to him, eyes narrowing for a moment before he had stood up, slender limbs seeming almost gangly in his movement before the teenager had greeted him in Russian. It was by no means smooth, but it was still Russian.

Vanya was quiet, studied him with too seeing eyes and too understanding for the situation. There was something in those grey eyes that made him think Ivan knows more than he should or would be expected.

The trip back to his home city had been awkward. Nothing had gone as planned or expected, starting with Vansha.

His son had turned to the solicitor, snapped out several orders in English before thanking the older man. He had watched as the two had a rapid fire conversation, Ivan barely finished any of his sentences before moving on to the next thought. Somehow the solicitor kept up and even held a conversation, the gist of which is keep paying the house payments and keep the cousins out. Of course he had been amazed at the allowance the teen received. Milya had not been wealthy, though she had more money than him at that point. He had been even more amazed when Ivan had ordered it put into an account to build interest. Don’t teenagers alway want money?

As soon as the conversation was done, Ivan had turned back to him, and commented, “Let me grab my two bags and I will be ready to go,” in Russian before he had turned away and headed into the office.

“He’s different than most teens,” the solicitor told him, then introduced himself, “Aidan Reid.”

“Valentin Klimentovich Markov,” he replied formally in English, it’s not a language he has a lot of reason to use.

“The Williams are gone now, most dead in the last five years of various illness, there are a few who married elsewhere, but they do not want Jon.” The solicitor remarks, “The Smiths and Ponds do not want him because he is not blood related.”

He can remember feeling offended by that statement, finding it offensive because family, no matter how they are related, are supposed to care for each other. He hadn’t actually had a chance to respond before Ivasya was there, a backpack slung over his shoulder and a briefcase in his hand. Briefcase? No, it’s the wrong shape and size for that. He’d learn on the train that it’s a laptop case.

Vansha doesn’t speak much during the ride, what he does say is quick and to the point. The teen’s voice is never raised, and besides arching an eyebrow he doesn’t show much in the way of outward emotion towards the people around them. The only time his son shows any strong emotion is when they first get off the train and a brutish man runs into him. As soon as the man’s voice lifts, Isha hissed something and the stranger backed off. He hadn’t known what to make of that.

Two days later he had gone back to work, and things had been crazy ever since. Any time he is at home, he learns something new about his son. Many of those things had been surprising.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, clearing his thoughts before turning to the next subject on his mind. He actually needs to think of both in detail, but not right now. Right now he is just trying to call up the most basic details.

Twenty days before he had been on the tropical base with Janus and several others when things had gone brutally downhill. He hadn’t expected to make it out alive, but he had been closer to the surface when the evacuation alarm had gone off. When he had exited, he had spotted their boss sprawled across the shell of the satellite.

At first he had planned on leaving him there, because the building was getting ready to blow, but the way Janus landed had ripped his shirt, and the edge of the soulmark could be seen. He didn’t have time to be shocked once he realized what that mark was. It matches his son’s mark. Janus, Aleksei Kirillovich Sokolov, is one of his teenage son’s soulmates.

Zakhar Stepanovich came through the escape hatch just moments later, so he called the other tech over. It takes some very fast talking to get Zakhar to help him. They were barely on the edge of the satellite when a massive explosion ripped through the air, the world lighting on fire around them. He just barely managed to cover Aleksei’s head and ended up with a tree slamming into his back, thankfully doing nothing more than bruising him.

The trip from the island to the city was nerve wracking. Thankfully Zakhar attempted to assist him through the entire trip, and while he wanted to get the bones back in place, he also wanted to be able to use the x-ray machine to make sure he can do so safely. If Vanya accepts Aleksei as a soulmate, he wanted there to be as little long lasting damage as possible. Being able to see what he is doing while he does it would make that possible.

Zakhar accompanied him all the way to his home, rather than leaving him as soon as they reached the city. Once he had Aleksei in his back room, he had Vanya help him, answering Ivan why he was trying to save this obviously nearly dead man.

Again his son had responded in a manner he had not expected. Assisting him with everything he needed and becoming fiercely protective over Aleksei in a relatively short time frame. At least, that’s how it had seemed.

The bone setting process had not been easy. If Vanyai had not gotten bored and fixed his portable x-ray machine and the portable ultrasound machine it would have been a lot harder and would have required him cutting into Aleksei’s skin, a choice he wanted to limit as much as possible. Thankfully only one spot ended up needing to be set using surgery, a miracle considering how broken Janus was.

With every bone set, a splint was used to bind the injury in place and a great deal of gauze and ace bandages were used to hold the splints in place. If he thought a full cast could be used, he’d do that instead, but considering who his patient is, well that probably would cause more harm than good. It had been Vanya that suggested using a combination of a partial cast and a splint to hold each limb in place. Apparently it was a method Isha had seen done on one of his other fathers, a statement that had made him grit his teeth but he had accepted, because it would be useful here.

He hated the fact his son had fathers other than him. Even learning one of them was his second soulmate did nothing to change that feeling.

As soon as they had Aleksei stabilized, Ivasha had turned to him, just about demanding, “I need access to every single medical book you have.”

He had blinked at the teen, absently asking, “Why?” As far as he can tell, his son has no interest in the medical profession.

“I have a feeling it will be very useful information for me to know.” Vanya answered, barely paying attention as he grabbed his laptop and made himself comfortable in the corner, the phone line already plugged in.

“I will have the housekeeper bring them to you,” he had answered.

Vanya had barely nodded in response, already absorbed in the laptop.

He had withdrawn to his study to consider the implications.

Ivan would accept Aleksei as his, already has if the teens behavior is something to go by.

Opening his eyes, he glances around, noting that they are almost to the patient’s home.

For the next thirty-seven hours his focus is purely on his patient and the family. Even during his brief break where he got a nap in the guest room, he keeps his focus here instead of his home. Thankfully he is able to get his patient stable and on the mend. He enjoys his meals with the family, watching and listening to the interactions between everyone.

This is a good family, he thinks, watching the body language. Many try to hide problems, but the body language gives it away. This family is actually tight knit and willing to work together. This is one patient he knows will get the care needed. When he gives instructions, they each listen carefully. Asking questions for points they are unsure of or would like more details on.

At the end of his visit with his patient and the family, he bids them farewell, thanking them for the transportation.

“Thank you doctor, for coming so quickly,” one of the daughters tells him. “Providing transportation is the least we could do.”

Another one of the daughters presents him with a basket full of food with a shy smile.

Once back in the car, he quickly drops back into his mind. This time he wishes to think about the cold fury that he has heard in every icy word his son has said in promise or threat. For the most part Vansha was quiet, studious even. Yet when he felt threatened or felt he needed to be a threat, Isha’s voice would drop, steal and ice filling it, making him flinch because it’s definitely not a nice voice. He had automatically stepped back, body tensing for a fight when his son had answered his concerns over Aleksei.

At first he thought them mismatched. After all, why would an assassin and a teenager be soulmates? It’s so very hard to believe. In that instance though, as Jon’s voice had taken on that hard edge and cold tone, he had worried that it might be Aleksei who is unprepared. It’s not the first time Vanyai had done or said something in the last year to make him think there was more to his son than expected.

He is quite aware that there is a great deal he doesn’t know or understand about his son. Why and how the younger man knew how to use a variety of skills he would call thieves talents. The ability to use computers to the point where Isha could do something in several hours Aleksei’s men had not been able to do in years. That alone was terrifying.

A part of him wonders if there is something wrong with Vanya, normal people do not think the way his son does. Yet he is quite pleased that his son has the talents and skills he has, the core of steel. It will be needed with a soulmate like Janus, particularly if they stay in each other’s lives. The gentle way Vansha had touched the assassin told him everything.

Nearly the entire trip home is consumed with thoughts of that nature, racing through his mind, making him feel worthless for not knowing or understanding his own flesh and blood. It’s quickly followed by anger over the fact his child considers someone else father, not him. Years have been lost because Milya had allowed someone to get between them. Deeper than the rage and anger is the sadness, the knowledge that he would never see her again, that small hope shattered the moment he learned of Jon’s existence.

Jon, he repeats to himself, having noticed that Ivan seems to have a hard time with so many variations on his name. Often times not even realizing he is the one being spoken to. Hopefully he will have a chance to call his son by all the different deviations of Ivan. Maybe even find one or two that Vanyai accepts and answers to. At this point he would accept a diminutive of his name if he thought that Ivasya accepted him.

His mind is still racing when he arrives home, not sure what awaits him within the walls of his old home.


	11. Touch Starved

Alec’s POV  
Despite the pain deep within his body, he’s actually quite comfortable, which is really a rather surprising development. From what he can tell with his eyes still shut, he’s in the same spot he fell asleep in. His head resting on Jon’s sternum, right arm thrown over the slender waist, left arm tucked between their bodies grasping the smaller man’s shirt, legs stretched out with a pillow between his knees alongside Jon’s. Since he is rarely still as he sleeps, he is surprised he is in the same spot after however many hours it’s been.

Actually, he has no idea how long it has been since James betrayed him and attempted to kill him. Has it been days? Weeks? Maybe even months? How long was he out? Was he out for all of it or were there times he woke up, even partly? Did he say something during that time he shouldn’t have? How often has he been confused and disoriented?

There is a part of him that wants to ask Jon, but he is quite sure that he’d only get a cryptic answer. Cryptic answers seem to be the teen’s favorite thing for him, or maybe they are only confusing because of the fact he has been in pain and it’s hard to focus. After that cold threat and soft but dangerous promise the younger man made, there is a part of him that wonders whether Jon’s an agent or agent in training. Yes, the teen is on the young side, but so were he and James when they were recruited. Is it Jon’s purpose to gain his trust only to betray him?

That’s what James did. His soulmate, his Storm, his partner, his friend, his lover betrayed him. He has no idea why James betrayed him. As far as he knew, his soulmate, his James, was dead for the last four years. It was the entire reason he had planned revenge on MI6. How did he discover he was wrong and that his soulmate and fellow agent wasn’t dead? James came to kill him. He doesn’t know if his storm knew before arriving or not. Why didn’t James respond to their code? Why did his soulmate betray him? How could James do that to him? He thought that James loved him, that their soulmate connection was strong.

He’s startled out of his mind by Jon’s fingers rubbing lightly at the nape of his neck, voice soft and soothing, murmuring comfortingly, reassuringly.

“It’s alright, Alec,” the teen whispers against the top of his head in Scottish Gaelic, voice sleepy, “shhhh, relax a little, everything will be okay.” Apparently that is the teens default language. He’s surprised by the edge that enters the younger man’s voice, “Someone will pay for this.”

His eyes flicker open, carefully and slowly tipping his head to look up at the teenager.

Sleepy green eyes with hazel fire meet his firmly, a sort of fierceness and protectiveness he doesn’t understand. It’s something that probably wouldn’t be in the younger man’s gaze if he was fully awake.

Blinking, the teen smiles ruefully, giving a small shake of his head. “Sorry,” Jon mumbles, “Didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He swallows, surprised at the sincerity in the younger man’s voice. It doesn’t make sense.

“You didn’t,” he answers roughly, throat dry and mouth feeling like it is full of cotton.

“Thirsty?” Jon enquires softly, stretching against him slowly.

Somehow that innocent action has his mind easily imagining the smaller man a bit older and kneeling above him. Almost the exact same way he was earlier. Only instead of it being from him nearly attacking Jon, they are both bare skinned and taking their time touching each other. He can so easily imagine exactly what Jon would look like, the sleek muscles, the cream colored skin darken with the flush of pleasure, eyes almost closed and dark as a rolling storm-

What the hell? He thinks, the word storm breaking him from his fantasy. Closing his eyes, he has to stop himself from shaking his head as he internally berates himself. What’s wrong with him? Why is he imagining a teenager naked and above him? Has he really fallen so far from his code? Did he hit his head harder than he realized? He’s _never_ found teenagers appealing like that. Even as a teenager the only one he had been interested in was James, and Jon is definitely nothing like James.

Although. . .

At least his mind had imagined a slightly older Jon, an adult Jon, not a teenager.

A part of him wonders what sort of soulmarks the teen has. What sort of people will someday be lucky enough to call someone so intelligent and determined theirs. He wants to run his fingers over the younger man’s skin. Wants to feel how different each line of the soulmark feels compared to the rest of the skin around it. Perhaps, if they are around each other long enough he’ll get a chance to discover what Jon’s soulmarks are. He’s quite sure that he’s _not_ Jon’s soulmate. Despite that, he wouldn’t mind something, even briefly, with Jon when the teen is older.

Not now. Definitely not now.

Of course, it’s very unlikely Jon would be interested in him. Why would someone so beautiful, so whole, want someone who is not? If Jon did decide to go to bed with him for more than just cuddling like they have been doing, he makes up for his lack of looks with a love of sensuality and skill. Not to mention enjoying bringing pleasure to his partner.

“Yes,” he mutters absently, realizing he hadn’t actually answered the question and hoping that Jon doesn’t realize that the yes actually has a dual meaning.

Carefully, the smaller man wiggles into a sitting position, showing no signs of realizing the dual meaning. That’s good. Without jarring him too much, Jon reaches for the now cold pot of tea and quietly makes a cup.

“Here,” the younger man murmurs, helping him into a sitting position “It’s a bit cold, we’ve been sleeping for just shy of four hours.”

Once he is seated rather than lying down, he nods slightly, replying, “That’s fine.”

Jon picks the cup up, offering it to him with the same care as he gave it when warm as well.

He sips at it slowly. Letting it wet his mouth, rinsing the cottonmouth away, moistening his parched throat as it slides down it. As he finishes it off, and then drinks a second cup when Jon quickly makes it, he considers asking for something more.

“Still thirsty?” the teen inquires, tipping his head to the left.

He nods, eyes closing and breath catching as a bolt of pain lances through his leg as his muscles twitch.

“Okay,” Jon comments. “I’m going to go get some juice, the electric kettle, a box of tea, and more sugar. In total I should be gone ten minutes, possibly fifteen at the most.”

Reflexively his hand tightens, fingers curling deeper into the piece of shirt he is still holding. Making him realize that even with the moving to sit up, he maintained his grip on the younger man’s shirt. Realizing exactly how close they are still sitting.

Why does the teen not seem to mind the closeness? Is Jon touch starved? That might explain it.

“Actually,” there is a slightly playful note to Jon’s voice, “I’m not.” Calmly and seriously, the smaller man continues, “I just noticed you’re a bit calmer when within touch range.”

He feels his skin heating up in embarrassment. How many times is he going to embarrass himself like this?

“It’s alright,” Jon reassures him, lightly bumping their shoulders together. “It’s nothing bad.”

He’s not sure about that. He was a Double-O, in the marines, undercover, and a traitor at different points in the last fourteen years. The implication is he is the touch starved one. How is that possible? He’s touched plenty of people. Of course, he touches them, they don’t touch him. So it’s not completely unbelievable that he is touch starved. Particularly considering how often he avoids any sort of physical connection.

Is his desire for contact why he wants the teen close? Why his protective instincts have flared to life? Why he is interested in how Jon stands up to and challenges him without being rude about it? Does it explain why each gentle touch seems to be so much more? Why the contact is so soothing? Does it explain why he wants more? So very much more.

He better get a hold of himself. Emotionally bonding with the teen would be a very bad idea. There is no way Jon will want him. Not with all of his scars and baggage. He’s definitely not worth it. At least as far as he can tell. Not even his soulmate wanted him. James tried to kill him after all.

“Alec.” Jon’s voice cuts through the chaos in his mind. One long fingered hand is lightly touching the side of his jaw, the other carding through his hair softly. “Focus on me.”

His eyes slowly narrow on the younger man, bringing the delicate, almost feminine features into sharp relief.

Smiling at him encouragingly, Jon murmurs, “There you are, that’s it, focus on me instead of whatever is making your eyes stormy.”

He blinks, pushing the thoughts away and focusing on the gentle touches.

“Why?” he demands as he realizes they are pressed together from hip to shoulder. A part of him wants to threaten and intimidate the younger man. Both his injuries and instincts wouldn’t allow him to do so even if he had the ambition.

Jon’s eyes narrow on him, studying him with far too much understanding and perception. “When the splints come off, when the bones are healed, when you can walk out of the room without your legs trying to give out, then I’ll answer that particular why. Not a minute before.” There is something cold and final in the teen’s voice, it’s almost the same as when Jon threatened him.

Several minutes are spent considering that offer. Slowly he nods in agreement. He wants to put conditions on waiting so long, wants to make a deal, but doesn’t bother trying because instinct says it wouldn’t work. His instincts are rarely wrong. Well, except they never warned him his soulmate would turn on him. The rest of the time his instincts are rarely wrong.

Please, his mind whispers to him, you have nothing to deal with. Everyone thinks you’re dead and everything you own was probably confiscated. Maybe he should try to end things, not even bother healing. Yet Jon is trying so hard to be supportive, trying to help him, he can’t do that to the teen. Still, this confuses him. People don’t just help, so he wants answers and will not get them if he is dead.

For now he will accept the affection and care that Jon seems to like giving him. He’ll enjoy it while it lasts because he’s sure that it won’t last for long. He gets six to ten weeks depending on how bad he broke the bones.

Actually, that’s probably something he should ask about, not that he’s going to right now. He’s suddenly exhausted again from the turmoil in his mind and emotions.

“Fine,” he states, agreeing to the terms aloud. His eyes drift shut because he doesn’t want to see when Jon leaves, even if it’s only for a little bit.

The long fingers cupping his jaw slowly stroke over his skin, lightly caressing the damaged right side with the gentlest of touches. He wants to lean into those fingers, and holds his body still instead through force of will.

“Hey,” Jon murmurs, warm breath fanning over his face. “I’ll be right back. You’re in my room, in my bed, so you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Opening his eyes, his lips quirk up just the slightest at the teen’s teasing words.

Several minutes are spent with Jon simply watching him, hands lightly skimming over his skin and petting his hair. When he starts to feel calmer, relaxing into the bedding once more, the younger man smiles at him warmly, quietly slipping from the bed to collect everything and leave the room.

He closes his eyes again, ignoring the burning and aching, the pain rushing through his body and mind. What is he going to do? He’s only known Jon such a short while and he already feels attached. How much worse is it going to be by the time he heals?


	12. Scope and Panic

Alec’s POV  
Once Jon is gone from the room, he presses his eyes shut tightly.

What the hell is wrong with him? He thinks, mind replaying the fantasy from earlier, adding little details like the calluses he noticed on the teenager’s fingers and the way the dark hair curls as it gets more humid in the air. The small smile that plays at the edge of Jon’s lips when he’s relaxing and the way his eyes narrow when he is being serious.

He needs to stop this, sooner than later, it’s only going to end in more pain. Perhaps he deserves pain. There must be a reason his soulmate turned on him. There must be a reason MI6 betrayed him. He just doesn’t know why.

Now would be a good time to catalogue injuries, he thinks, keeping his eyes closed.

Both of his legs are broken. Judging by the fact the casting starts mid-foot goes up just about to his knees, and then re-splints at the top, well he’s sure it’s nearly all of the bones. How he managed not to break his knees in the process he doesn’t know. Jon has already told him his pelvic region survived the fall without anything breaking. That’s good. He knows how bad having that area break can be from seeing it happen to other agents. He’s got several broken ribs, but they seem to be set and healing. There is wrapping on part of his torso, but not all of it. His shoulders are fine but his collar bone aches, so he probably broke it as well. Right arm is currently useless. The only thing not broken as far as he can tell is his fingers. Left arm seems to have survived better, only his wrist seems broken though he keeps aggravating it and had intentionally not paid attention to the x-ray machine as Valentin had been checking his breaks.

Damn it, why the hell did he survive only to be in this sort of shape? Why did he survive at all? Why does Jon seem to care what happens to him? Why does his chest tighten and panic start to build as soon as the smaller man is out of his range of hearing? Why did James attempt to kill him? Why, why, why. The question he has far too much of and not nearly enough answers. He’ll just start by answering the questions he can.

Opening his eyes, he takes a long, shallow breath and looks around the room. It’s modest sized with the bed being the most dominate feature. It’s a decent sized bed for a teenager, probably bigger than needed but then, this was most likely a guest bedroom originally. After all Jon said he didn’t want to be upstairs. There is a desk near the window but not in front of it, and an entire wall taken up with bookshelves, most of which have books on them.

He narrows his eyes as he tries to make out some of the titles, realizing that it’s a mix of languages. There are books in French, English, Russian, and Latin. Latin? He doesn’t remember that being on the list of languages Jon mentioned being able to speak. Wait. Speak. Jon had said he can read languages better than speak them.

Giving a small shake of his head, he continues his inspection of the room.

The walls are blank. There is nothing really decorative about any of them. Not that much can be seen, though there seems to be bookshelves wherever the younger man can fit them. There is a walk-in closet door, at least that’s what he is assuming, next to the bathroom door.

How long has it been? He wonders, eyes returning to the bedroom door, the one that Jon exited through. 

Best to finish studying the room, he tells himself trying not to think about the fact he is alone in the teen’s room. Why is he in the teen’s room? It’s more comfortable than that other room. A shiver runs down his spine. That other room was too much like a cell for his comfort. There is definitely nothing cell-like about this one however.

Where’s Jon? 

Time seems to drag by and with every breath that the younger man is gone, his chest feels tighter. He feels confined, trapped, unable to breath. Even though logically he knows the room has not gotten any smaller, it seems smaller, like the walls are closing in on him.

Closing his eyes once more, he tries to even out his breathing. He’s normally far better at controlling his reactions than this, but his nerves are raw, exposed. Between the pain ripping through his body and the feeling of being trapped filling his mind, it makes it so hard to breath.

Jon’s not coming back, a voice whispers in his mind, just like James is not coming back. They want you dead. You’re worthless, useless, disgusting, an abomination, a freak. The words dance through his mind, reminding him of all the times growing up when he felt out of place in his skin. Even before the scarring he hadn’t understood why so many people thought he was attractive. James hadn’t acted like he was attractive. They acted like partners, companions, friends, and lovers. It wasn’t something they advertised though he is quite sure it’s in their files about them being soulmates.

No. He can’t think of James. Not right now. Not when he is just barely holding on to his sanity by the thinnest of threads. Sanity? What sanity? He hasn’t been sane since before the explosion. It’s been hard keeping the night terrors at bay, his nerves under wraps, everything controlled like it should be. There have been times he has barely been able to stop himself. Just yesterday with the nurse is an example of that.

Jon’s not coming back, he’s going to call and report you, turn you over to be killed. He knows who you really are. He can easily do that. That little voice keeps whispering. Years of feeling out of place and hunted converging on him at once. It’s been nine years since he was last this helpless.

Jon’s not coming back because someone knows you’re here and they’re going to torture and kill him because of you. The teen’s a hacker, he won’t make it long.

He has to get up. He has to find Jon. It’s been too long. Something has to be wrong.

He doesn’t actually hear the door slide open as he struggles to the edge of the bed, every movement sending agony through his body. Sharp pain and radiating fire blossoms from his wrist and arm. It doesn’t matter, he has to find Jon. Now. He can’t see through the pain, but he has to find the teen now. He has to protect him.

When hands lightly settle against his shoulders, he reacts blindly, lashing out immediately with his hands.

The next thing he knows, he’s gasping in pain, flat on his back in the middle of the bed, Jon settled over his hips once more. Voice gentle as the teen waits for him to come back to himself. His hands are clutching at the teen’s shirt, fingers nearly wrapped around the younger man’s throat. He quickly lets go, realizing what he has done, his eyes widening in horror.

Twice now he has attacked someone he shouldn’t attack.

“Alec, shhh, it’s alright,” Jon murmurs comfortingly, hands feathering along his face in the lightest of caresses.

Why is the teen’s voice so low? That’s right, he tried choking him.

“No, stop that,” Jon orders, switching to Scottish Gaelic, one of the younger man’s hands carefully but firmly wrapping around the splint on his wrist. “Shhh, stop, just breath with me,” the younger man’s voice is firm.

His eyes narrow in on the smaller man’s too soft and too understanding green eyes watching him in concern.

“There you are,” Jon whispers. “Hi.”

He swallows, wanting to get up and escape, not be here, be dead, something. He tried hurting the very person he _didn’t_ want to hurt. James should have killed him.

“Alec, shhh, focus on me, Alec,” the younger man’s hand continues to lightly stroke along the skin of his face.

His eyes widen when he realizes that it’s the burned side of his face, that Jon is willingly touching his scars and doesn’t seem disgusted. How is the teenager not disgusted with his skin? He’s disgusted every time he looks in the mirror or has to wash his skin.

“Alec, focus on me,” the teenage orders him firmly. “There you are, yes, keep your focus on me. That’s right,” there is a brief pause, and Jon suggests, “Rather than breathe with me, count with me, keep pace.”

He swallows, nodding and watching the younger man’s face.

Jon counts in Scottish Gaelic to start with. Numbers evenly spaced as he counts quietly.

It take him three tries before he is saying the numbers with the teen, body slowly relaxing as he focuses in on the counting rather than the breathing.

“That’s great Alec, you’re doing wonderfully,” the teen praises softly.

Is Jon being sarcastic? He wonders, his eyes narrowing on the smaller man as Jon continues to praise him. He is acutely aware of the fact Jon is stroking his scarred jaw and carefully holding his hand, thumb lightly rubbing.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong? Why we are back to the roll game?” Jon asks him gently.

Of course, he thinks, only to find it is hard to put the thoughts to words.

When his chest starts to hurt again, and his vision tunnels once more, Jon seems to realize something is off because the smaller man immediately goes back to comforting him.

“Shhh, it’s alright Alec, shhhh, don’t try forcing it.” Jon tells him quietly. “Here, how about we shift how we’re sitting. Instead of me perched like this, I can sit where I was earlier, and you can stretch out against my side. Okay? You can squeeze my hand if that’s alright.”

Jon wouldn’t be able to go anywhere if he is pressed against the younger man like that. Why would the teen be willing to restrict his movements? It doesn’t make sense. That’s not a safe choice. He’s already proven that he will probably hurt Jon without trying.

“It’s alright, Alec,” Jon whispers, thumb gently wiping away the tears slowly running down his face.

When did he start crying? Why is he crying? He’s thirty-one years old, he shouldn’t be crying.

“You’re safe.” Jon reassures him, “I’m safe.” The teen brushes the moisture away from the other side of his face. “This house is safe. Anyone tries coming through my window is going to find themselves having a bad day. Anyone tries coming through the door without being invited is going to be having a bad day.” There is something fierce in the teen’s tone.

Slowly, he tips his hand so Jon’s fingers slot within his and lightly squeezes.

Every movement is exaggerated as the teen shifts to beside him. Then scoots on the bed to rest against the headboard. All of this is done without letting go of his hand, which Jon is still lightly caressing.

He hisses in pain as he goes to move his body, only for the smaller man to stop him with a hand on his shoulder, “Here, let me, you need to stop aggravating your breaks.”

Carefully, the younger man gets them situated so he can press them together from ankle to shoulder once more. He is not quite laying down and not quite sitting up, with his head resting against Jon’s shoulder.

“Let me give you a pain pill, Alec,” the teen urges him. “I promise I am not going anywhere. If I do have to get up, I will go no further than my bathroom before being back here.”

He doesn’t want to take a pain pill because he doesn’t like how they will make him feel when he wakes up but Jon is right, he needs one. If his body felt like it was on fire before he tried finding Jon, it feels far worse now. 

“Fine,” he agrees gruffly, tipping his head to look up at the teen 

Jon smiles at him warmly, letting go of his hand to reach for a glass on the nightstand. Only he pauses and gives a small shake of his head before opening the drawer to pull the meds out. 

He watches with interest as the younger man pops the cap one handed, tipping the bottle so two of the pills fall out next to the juice before resealing it and dropping it back in the drawer. 

“Mixed together or swallowed separately?” Jon inquires softly. 

“Mixed,” he answers, closing his eyes and trying to not think about the pain, how it was caused, or why he currently hurts worse. 

Nodding, the smaller man picks the pills up and drops them in the juice before mixing it around a bit and offering it to him. He drinks it, fighting back the disgust at the pain pill’s after taste, but finishing it anyways. Once the glass is empty, it is set aside. 

Jon makes sure he is comfortable before starting to talk. He listens to the younger man talk about his family, his limited collection of friends, and his hobbies. When the pills start to kick in, he wants to stay awake but knows he won’t be able to. Hopefully he can remember all this later. If not, maybe Jon would be willing to tell him again.


	13. Hiring Assistance

Jon’s POV  
He keeps talking until he is quite sure that Alec is a sleep. His mind is processing what sort of way he can deal with this situation. Perhaps he should see about getting some help. He doesn’t have to be a genius to know that Masha is getting nowhere near Alec again if she can possibly help it. He doesn’t want to mess with Svetlana’s schedule, and knows that she is concerned about him. Valentin is worried about him too, just smart enough not to try and change his mind, instead his father just keeps checking in on him and giving him concerned looks.

So what shall he do?

Hire a second nurse? He wonders, tilting his head and shaking it. No, he doesn’t need a nurse. Maybe hire a maid? No, well, unless Svetlana wants help. Maybe hire a PA. What type though? Should he contact Mr. Reid and have his solicitor find him someone? That might not be a good idea since his solicitor would probably hire someone there and send them here.

What would dad have done? He asks himself, hands lightly petting Alec’s hair, face, and neck as he thinks. 

Hired the most unlikely person or the person who needed help most, he immediately answers.

Well then, that answers that. Who has he met that needs help or would be an unlikely candidate. There was the pickpocket, the man who tried threatening him in the alley whose finger he broke, and that girl he found prostituting who looked uncomfortable about every minute of it. Probably a lot of others he could think of if he wanted to. Why do those ones come to mind first?

He has information on two of the three of them from picking their pockets and memorizing their information. Tipping his head, he considers the options. Actually, Dmitri, the pickpocket from when he first arrived in Russia would probably be his better bet.

Tilting his head, he eyes his laptop. Wanting to look the pickpocket up, but not wanting to move because Alec is resting almost comfortably, at least he seems to be resting peacefully.

He smiles, lifting his hand to slowly stroke down the older man’s face. When he thought that Alec’s skin was a lot like a stim pad, he was not mistaken. He’s sure his soulmate wouldn’t appreciate that fact however.

How is he going to tell the older man they are soulmates when apparently their third member of the triad is the one who tried killing him? That is going make things difficult in the future. After all, James’ actions have told Alec that he is worthless, that his soulmate can betray him. That is definitely going to leave a lasting impression. It may be years before his soulmate can accept him, if he ever does.

Doesn’t matter, he will still be there as a protective and friendly presence.

Eventually the need to do something besides plot has him carefully moving from the bed, trying not to disturb Alec as much as possible. While he is up, he decides to use the bathroom before grabbing his laptop and returning to the bed. Resituating himself with Alec’s head on the side of his lap so he can play with the older man’s hair and because that seems to be where the agent keeps migrating to anyways, he sets the laptop on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

While Alec continues to rest, he looks up everything he can on Dmitri and his family. Making sure to find every detail to load to his ghost server and hide all evidence of him doing so. The pickpocket is definitely the right choice to call. Now he just has to wait until he can get a free minute or two. Perhaps when Valentin is checking on Alec in roughly three hours? Since Alec knows Valentin it shouldn’t be a problem if he pops off to the kitchen while the bones are checked. He knows normally Valentin wouldn’t have to check so much, but Alec is a very stubborn man who keeps trying to re-damage and aggravate the breaks.

He quickly sends off a message to Reid, asking the solicitor to get a yearlong PA contract written up for Dmitri Petrovich Menshov, along with a proposed salary. Welcome to suggestions based on a fair wage for someone dealing with odd hours and miscellaneous responsibilities. He even includes a very brief list of responsibilities to be included in the contract. Knowing Reid he will have an answer within the next six hours because the family’s solicitor has always been a very diligent man, just like his father had been before him.

Once that is done, he closes the laptop down, carefully scooting on the bed downwards a bit so the taller man’s head is resting on his shoulder instead of his lap, one hand still lightly playing with the soft hair as he drifts off to sleep.

Three hours later he wakes up to the sound of his door quietly opening, he is not surprised to see Svetlana popping her head in.

“May I?” she inquires softly, motioning to the tea service he has on the other nightstand and the plate that held snacks originally.

He nods carefully, inching himself into a sitting position again, “That’s fine,” he replies, hands almost automatically soothing along his soulmate’s shoulders when the older man starts to twitch as if waking up or bothered. He wants Alec to sleep as much as possible right now. That will make everything so much easier.

“More tea?” she asks, giving them a peculiar look.

“That would be great, something with cinnamon please.” He answers with another nod, reaching over to flip the laptop open so he can do some more research. He still has a few other people in mind to hire, even if it ends up being for different jobs.

Set up businesses, hire people and teach them how to help themselves, his dad would say. Most of his dad’s fortune, which includes money that he gets monthly as an allowance, was from building a variety of businesses, getting them successful, and selling them to the manager. Despite the fact his da tended to sell things at a lesser rate than they were worth, he was good at investing. Of course, to look at him it would be hard to imagine, his dad rarely spent money, often preferring to let people think he was broke.

She withdraws with a quick smile in his direction, and a curious, wary look at Alec.

Why is she so wary of Alec? As far as he knows, his soulmate has done nothing to her or her family. They probably wouldn’t even be on his radar because spies don’t think like hackers. Wait a moment, Masha probably spoke with Svetlana and Gregor about the fact Alec nearly strangled her. Well that explains a lot. She’ll get over it.

Shaking his head, he glances down at the sleeping agent, studying his soulmate further. It’s become quite a pastime of his and he can even sketch the older man in detail if he tries. Not that he does a lot of sketching. Maybe he should. It’d be good for him to practice sketching. Only problem with that is the fact he likes to work at his desk and currently Alec is an octopus with him as the target. Not that that’s a bad thing after all, just a bit inconvenient for drawing.

He’s pulled from his musings by Svetlana slipping back into the room with his new tea service and more snacks.

“Thank you,” he tells her softly.

She nods, telling him, “You need anything, you call for me and I’ll come help.”

“Thank you, but I should be fine,” tilting his head, he comments, “Actually plan on hiring a PA for any out of the house or late night errands I need ran over the next few weeks.” She starts to protest, but he drops his head and holds his hand up for quiet, so she does so. “You have a family and a schedule. I’m not going to mess with it too much.”

“True,” she mumbles. “Still, I’ll help as needed.” She straightens up, glancing at Alec, “I have three elder brothers and one younger, two are soldiers. His reaction to Masha is a lot like their reaction to people they don’t know after the Soviet-Afghan War.”

He nods, “That’s a good way to look at it.”

“Well then, he just needs a lot of affection, which you are clearly helping with,” she announces before bidding him, “I will come check on you in a few hours.”

“Thank you, Svetlana,” he replies softly, sincerely.

Everything in Alec’s file tells him there is going to be a very rough time of it. He’s already noticed the nightmares and horrors that sometimes rock the older man’s dreaming state in the worst possible way. It had been after one of those nightmares he had noticed how much calmer Alec was with him nearby and the reason he is willing to stay relatively still, when still is not something he is good at.

After making himself a cup carefully, he turns back to his laptop and gets to work looking into some of the local businesses up for sale. That leads to him researching the actual market and discovering a large part of the problem. Well maybe he will not try to follow his da’s advice just yet about businesses. But he will still collect information and plan.

He smiles when the email chime alerts him to a message, and smiles further when he finds several different contract options waiting for him from Reid, along with a message to be careful who he hires.

Alec starts to wake up roughly ten hours after the meds had put the older man to sleep, and his first signs that the agent is waking up is how Alec’s hands tighten in his shirt.

“Hello,” he murmurs, brushing the soft hair out of Alec’s face from where it has fallen while the older man was sleeping.

Immediately the spy freezes up, body growing tense.

“Shhh, it’s alright, relax, the only people in here are you and I,” he murmurs comfortingly in Scottish Gaelic, shaking his head ruefully when he notices the switch in languages. Good thing Alec is a polyglot and can understand him. He keeps murmuring softly until some of the tenseness begins to fade.

When a clear green-blue eye flickers open and the older man’s gaze drifts up to his face, he smiles at the agent, just the slightest twitch of his lips.

“Loo?” he inquires with a nod in that direction.

Several minutes pass with him getting stared at before the older man finally answers, “Yes,” a bit roughly.

Carefully untangling their limbs, he climbs off the bed to get the wheelchair, still very thankful they can use it without further injury to Alec. Of course they are in the middle of getting his soulmate to the bathroom room when Valentin knocks to come in and check on them. That figures. Oh well, his father can wait until his soulmate is done before they talk. He can also take his laptop to get that stuff printed off and call Dmitri while Valentin is speaking with Alec.

He gets glared at less this time than he has the previous times, which is good, they are getting somewhere, which is also good. Once he gets Alec resituated in the bed, he grabs his laptop and excuses himself. Which gets him growled at to come back now by Alec, and he is pretty sure there are other snarly things said about the fact his room has a small office, so why doesn’t he just use it?

In the house’s actual office, he hooks his laptop up in order to print off the contract, reading it a second time to make sure it includes everything that he desires. This should work, he thinks as he sets it aside. It’s a far better deal than anything Dmitri could find elsewhere for legitimate work.

Grabbing the phone, his mind automatically recalls the phone number for Dmitri and he dials it up.

“Hello?” a woman answers the phone, voice very tired. This must be the female member of the triad, Kharitina, currently pregnant and having health issues.

“Hello ma’am,” he answers politely, allowing his British accent to show heavily in his Russian one, he has found it to be effect for dealing with people who do not know him, they always expect him to not understand the culture. “I am trying to reach Dmitri Petrovich Menshov.”

“Oh,” she mumbles, “One minute, he’s in the other room.”

“Thank you,” he responds, waiting patiently for Dmitri to come on the line.

“Hello?” a rough voice inquires.

“Good afternoon, Dmitri Petrovich Menshov, I called to offer you a job.” He states clearly, “My name is Jonathan Valentinovich Markov, we met briefly last year.”

The man on the other end of the line is silent, if not for the fact he can hear Dmitri breathing, he would wonder if he had been hung up on.

”I have a completely legal job offer for you. Considering your situation, I thought you may be interested,” he continues calmly. He’s quickly doing the math and probabilities that Dmitri will not show, but he is quite sure he will. After all, a man with a child and more children on the way cannot turn down honest work if he is trying to actually support his family. Everything he has found on Dmitri says he is.

“How did you get this number? Who are you?” Dmitri demands, a combination of fear and anger in his tone.

“I’m good at finding information, and I am the teenager you tried to pickpocket at the train station.” He answers the questions with ease. Really, he would prefer this part in person, or on a computer, he can read people better that way.

Thank you papa for that ability, he thinks as he waits for an answer. Wish I could use it right now.

“If you are interested, here is my address, be here at seven pm, we will discuss salary, duties, and hours. I have already had my solicitor draw up a basic contract to discuss.” He informs the older man, rattling off the address, bidding him farewell, and hanging up before Dmitri actually has a chance to respond one way or another. It’s not the politest way to get what he is after, however his patience is currently running thin.

Closing out his laptop, he unhooks it to return to his room, making a stop in the kitchen to speak with Gregor and Svetlana along the way, “I may have company at seven pm, slightly taller than me, looks like he needs a good haircut, shaggy toffee blonde-brown hair, blue eyes, probably not the best of clothing, most likely angry or annoyed. If he shows up, please come get me but do not let him near the room.”

The two nod, a worried expression on Svetlana’s face as she asks, “Will you be safe?”

His lips quirk upwards in a smile as he answers, “Safer than you’d realize.”

Gregor points the knife he had just been using in his direction, “You call us if you need any help.”

“Thank you, I should be fine, just a matter of a small job offer, and probably a little bit of intimidation.” He remarks, “Besides, da always said give people a chance until they do not want it. That’s all I am doing.” Smiling at the pair, he requests, “When you have a few minutes, some fresh tea would be great, some small sandwiches would be appreciated, too.”

The two nod again and he knows that almost as soon as he is getting comfortable she will be there with the tray of fresh stuff.

Well, time to return to his room and hope Alec has been visiting with Valentin without injuring himself further. Some reason that seems like a hard thing to believe, after all, he’s seen exactly how mule-headed Alec can be.


	14. Job Offer

Dmitri POV  
It’s been thirteen months since he lost his job when his boss moved out of the city. Eleven months since he started pickpocketing as a way to make something, anything to help his family. Ten months since he pickpocketed a teenager who promptly called him by name and stated his address, even if it was quiet enough others couldn’t hear, he did. Terror had shot through him, this boy knew who he was, could and probably would report him.

The next five months he didn’t pickpocket between job hunts. Money began to get tight again because Sergei’s income wasn’t enough for the four of them, and their beautiful Kharitina was pregnant. A situation that should be a joy, but was causing fear between the fact had been a hard pregnancy. She’s ended up on bed rest, or as close as possible, meaning Sergei’s income was it right now.

In the last five months, he has been doing whatever odds jobs he can get. Which are often barely worth the time for the amount he gets paid, and pickpocketing when he thinks that no one will notice.

So when his Khorya says there is someone on the phone she doesn’t recognize, asking for him by his full name, terror rushes through him again.

Getting up to take the phone, he fights back the urge to just hang up, to try to take their family and bolt. He is sure that he will not be able to get far enough away, not on their limited resources. Instead he squares his shoulders and straightens his spine, hoping it will give him the confidence he is currently lacking, “Hello?”

The voice is young, familiar, but he can’t place from where as the person on the other line replies, “Good afternoon.” There is a brief pause, it sounds like the person on the other end is doing something with paper. “Dmitri Petrovich Menshov,” there is another pause as if the person speaking is also on a computer. “I called to offer you a job.” When he doesn’t immediately respond, the stranger introduces himself. “My name is Jonathan Valentinovich Markov, we met briefly last year.”

Jonathan? He repeats to himself, he can’t recall ever meeting a Jonathan. That’s not a Russian name, for all the rest of the name is Russian. The accent, he realizes, British. That teenager who knew who he was last year. Oh shit. This can’t be good. No way can this be good. How does the teenager know his number? It’s unlisted. A job offer? What sort of job offer? It’s probably not a good thing, no matter what he says. How can getting a job offer from someone he tried pinching be a good thing?

He’s drawn out of his mind and the fear by the teen continuing, “I have a completely legal job offer for you. Considering your situation, I thought you may be interested.”

Not really, definitely not interested in a job from someone he tried to steal from. He’s sure that it’s not as honest as this Jonathan person says it is.

“How did you get this number?” He demands, wanting to know since it’s supposed to be unlisted. “Who are you?” just to confirm it really is the teen he tried stealing from.

There is amusement in Jonathan’s voice as he answers, “I’m good at finding information, and I am the teenager you tried to pickpocket at the train station.”

He can hear his pulse in his ears as the fear rushes through him. He is right. His is that kid he tried pickpocketing, he’s screwed, his family is screwed, what has he done? He barely catches the last of what the teen says, an address, and a time, before the younger man is hanging up on him.

Swallowing hard, he nearly collapses into the kitchen chair closest to him as the dial tone fills his ears.

He has to go. There isn’t really a choice in the matter.

“Dima?” his love asks, slowly walking towards him.

She’s too thin for someone who is pregnant, he thinks as he looks up at her, a small smile tugging at his lips, though if her expression is anything to go by, it’s not fooling her.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, hand brushing against the side of his face affectionately, worry filling her dark chocolate eyes.

“Nothing,” he answers, not wanting to stress her out worse. “Just a job interview this evening. I might miss dinner, eat mine so it doesn’t go to waste.”

Moving to his side, she leans into him, pressing her lips to his temple, “You’re lying, something is bothering you.”

“It’ll be alright,” he evades, “We’ll discuss it tonight when I get home, all three of us.”

She makes noises in the back of her throat of disbelief but doesn’t call him on it.

“You should go lay down,” he suggests, “I can watch Mikhail for a while.”

“But you need rest if you have an interview finally,” she responds, then offers, “How about the three of us take a nap together?”

He nods, not because he wants to take a nap, but because he wants to spend time with his family. A part of him wishes that Sesha was home to join them, but their third member is working right now, bringing home the money in order to try and pay the bills.

“Go, I will get our son and join you,” he tells her, tipping his head to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

“Things are looking up,” she comments as she straightens to head towards their bedroom, “God willing, they will continue to improve.”

He nods in agreement, though the voice in the back of his head tells him God’s probably not the one who’s overseeing this.

Four hours later, the alarm he set goes off, and his time cuddling with his family is done for now. He quickly turns it off before it can wake Mika or Khorya. Climbing off the bed, he spends a few minutes just looking at them before shaking his head to clear his thoughts. It would be best if he went into this interview as calm as possible.

“Wear the black slacks and dark red shirt,” his love suggests drowsily, “They are in good shape, should help make a good impression.”

He’s moderately certain he’s already made an impression of the wrong type, but agrees with her anyways, “Okay Kharya.”

Grabbing the outfit she suggests, he heads into the bathroom, planning to take a quick shower and make himself as presentable as he can. Not because he thinks he has to for this interview, but because it will make his love feel better. Maybe this won’t be as he is expecting. Please, it will probably be worse.

He almost rushes through the clean up process, wanting to get there and get this done sooner than later.

“You’ll be fine,” his love tells him softly, voice low not to disturb their still sleeping son. “Sesha and I will be waiting for the news when you get home, maybe we can even have a celebration dinner, God willing.”

Walking over to the bed, he leans down to kiss her forehead, whispering, “I love you,” before straightening up to leave. He reaches past her for just a moment to brush their son’s hair from his face before he does so.

Their car broke down seven months ago, so now he relies on a bicycle or the buses to get him places. Struggling to remember the address, he checks the bus schedule to find the one that will get him the closest, then takes it. He’s not surprised to find himself in a better part of the city. He is surprised however when he finds the address and it’s almost a mansion.

Swallowing hard, he heads up the drive and to the door, trying not to focus on his surroundings any more than he has to. When he reaches the door, he knocks at it twice before stepping back to wait. All the nervousness he’s been feeling for the last few hours rush through him, making it hard to breath as he waits for what he is sure is going to be one of the worst evenings of his life.

A plump woman, probably in her late thirties to early forties, opens the door, giving him a stern once over.

“May I help you?” she inquires, and he is thankful there is no accent in her Russian.

“I believe this is the address Jonathan Valentinovich Markov said to meet him at?” he replies hesitantly.

“Jonathan?” She repeats before her eyes widen, “You mean Ivan. I forget he still uses his British first name to introduce himself. He said to expect company, but you are a bit earlier than I thought.” Motioning for him to come in, she continues, “Come in, come in, you may wait in the here while I fetch him. He’s finishing dinner right now.”

Dinner, he thinks, I would have liked to finish dinner but we don’t actually have anything at home to make for dinner. Sesha is bringing food when he gets off work. At least his soulmates and son will get a meal tonight.

“Thank you,” he replies as he turns towards the room she is directing him to wait in. It’s a rather tidy sitting room facing the front of the house with large windows that show off the garden out front.

What sort of person is this Jonathan? Ivan? He wonders, glancing about. This place is in good shape, a bit worn, but still maintained. The furniture is relatively new, as is the paper on the walls. The floors are hardwood, dark and well polished with nice carpets rolled out for people to walk on. There is no art on the walls but the paper is decorative enough.

If the teenager has money, why is he calling him? Does the teen want something illegal, but doesn’t want to get his hands dirty? That’s not a completely foreign idea, he’s been hired to steal things in the past by people who didn’t want to pay full price. Hopefully that’s not it. Is Jonathan planning on blackmailing him? He can’t afford that right now. They are barely surviving and they have a child on the way.

He’s startled out of his mind by the older woman bustling back into the room with a tray.

Smiling at him warmly, she declares, “There are extras, you should eat,” before leaving without giving him a chance to say anything in response.

Glancing down at the tray she had set before him, he is mildly surprised to see a large bowl of stew, what appears to be fresh bread from the steam coming off of it, and a pot of tea with peach jam next to it. He blinks, making sure he is seeing right, and chewing his bottom lip as he decides whether to try it or not.

Eventually, the feeling of hunger and the smell of food has him eating it quickly, not sure how much time he will have before this interview and wanting to eat as much as possible beforehand. At least one good thing came out of this mess, he got a solid meal. Immediately he feels bad because his family is not getting the same sort of solid meal, and he ends up pushing the tray away, an embarrassed flush covering his skin.

“There is nothing to be embarrassed about. If I know Svetlana and Gregor, they are in the process of making a to-go bag for you right now.” The voice from the phone states, almost all the British accent gone, at least compared to when they spoke on the phone.

He jerks about, spotting the teenager he had tried to pickpocket last year standing in the doorway, a comfortable looking pair of slacks and dark long sleeve shirt hugging his body. While there are some similarities he can see between that kid he tried pickpocketing and this boy, there are also a lot of differences, like the fact Jonathan looks far more comfortable right now, is taller and a bit more filled out. There is a confidence to this one that was lacking then, well a different type maybe, plus glasses when he is sure there were no glasses last time. How do glasses make that big of a difference?

“Jonathan Valentinovich Markov,” the younger man introduce himself as he comes into the room. “I prefer Jon, however pretty much everyone here calls me Ivan,” there is a smile playing at the edge of the teen’s lips as he says that.

He swallows, standing up to accept the hand offered as he replies, “Dmitri Petrovich Menshov.”

The ‘I know’ floats between them in the way the teen’s head tips to the side briefly.

“I have a job offer for you, one that does not involve anything illegal,” Jon states, taking a seat and waving him back to the sofa. “I’m currently assisting with a rather difficult patient who cannot be left alone for too long and who has a problem with most people. Svetlana and Gregor have their own tasks and family, so I do not wish to have to have them stick around any longer than their contracts call for. As such someone who can run errand and assist during their off hours is needed. I have already had my solicitor draw up the contact.” The younger man offers him a manila folder and waits patiently for him to go through it.

Swallowing hard, he opens it up and sets to reading the contract. Rereading it twice because he is sure he must have misread it, but he hadn’t.

“Why? How?” is all that he can think to ask. Who has that sort of money to just be offering it out to pickpockets?

Shrugging, Jon responds, “I get an allowance from my da’s trust, most of which I do not use, so I have money put away to use as needed. You’re not a thief by choice. Here is a different option for you, one that could be a great benefit to your family.”

There is no way this is real. He thinks, he has to be missing something. So he reads it a third time, still not finding anything hidden within the messages.

“You don’t have to decide tonight, but an answer by tomorrow evening would be appreciated.” Jon tells him, standing up, “Do you have questions?”

He’s sure there are some he should ask, he just can’t seem to make his mouth work to ask them. Still shocked over the contract and the deal offered. Maybe the hidden things will come later. This is damned near too good to be true.

“If I agree now?” he finally manages to get out.

The younger man smiles at him as he answers, “I’d have Masha, Svetlana, and Gregor witness, then fax a copy to the solicitor to file, and make a copy for myself. You would not be expected to start until tomorrow.”

“Yes,” he agrees, part of him swearing this will be the worst choice possible, the other part of him saying that letting this chance go would be worse. Hopefully it ends up being option two, rather than option one. If this is real, if he really gets paid the way this contract says, well, it’s almost double what he had been making as a construction worker. He could get the car fixed and make sure there was food in the house and catch the bills up. Please, please, please not be fake, not be something horrid.

The younger man’s smile seems almost shark like for a flash before it returns to that calm, barely there curve of the lips. “Excellent.”

He reads the contract for a fourth time as he Jon steps out for a few minutes.

This contract could change everything, even though it is only for one year. If it’s real, he will do everything in his power to make sure the teen wants to extend it. 


	15. Calm Day

Jon’s POV  
Svetlana, Gregor, and Masha all willingly witness for him as Dmitri signs the contract. Once that is out of the way, he bids the older man goodnight, asking him to be in at nine pm the following night before heading to the office. A smile curves his lips as he hears the cook and housekeeper telling Dmitri told hold a minute, they have food for him to take. He’s quite sure whatever the pair sends with his new PA is going to be more than he normally would bring home be after a shopping trip.

His stop in the office is short, just long enough to fax the papers over to Reid and grab his laptop. He then heads to his room because checking on Alec is the first thing on his mind, even if it is not something he is planning on saying. He has to bite back a laugh at the expression on his spy’s face. He’d bet the spy was trying to ask questions that his father is avoiding.

Placing his laptop on the desk, he bites back a smile as he can feel the eyes following his movements right up until the point he heads into the bathroom.

When he is done in the bathroom, he washes his hands and returns to his bedroom. His eyes flicker over to where his father and the spy are speaking to each other in soft tones, frustration still evident in how tense his spy is.

Settling at his desk, he clicks on the laptop and waits for it to load, already considering what his next upgrade is going to be. Probably to speed, his laptop might be faster than most people’s because he is good at making things do what he needs, but it’s still not as fast as it could be. Of course the last time he got bored, he fixed the x-ray machine, probably a good thing since it ended up being needed and for a very important reason at that.

Valentin eventually turns to him and asks, “Finish what you needed done?”

Only paying enough attention to make sure Alec is alright, he absently answers, “Yes,” as he does research on some of the newest gadgets and programing coming out and getting his hands on the supplies to update his laptop. It’s been just over year since the last time he did so.

“Goodnight Ivan, Aleksei,” his father states, sighing softly as he stands. It’s not until his father’s gone that he remembers he’s Ivan.

“Damn it, it’s a three letter name, how hard is that to remember?” he mutters to himself as he closes things down. Grumbling, he reminds himself, “I’m Ivan, even if I don’t really like the way it feels.” Giving a small shake of his head, he spins around in the chair to face the spy stretched out on his bed and drowsing.

Actually, he should probably get his sketch book out. It’s been a few days since his last drawing. He should get some sleep too, since he hasn’t had a lot of it lately and there most likely won’t be a lot in his future either.

Standing and stretching, he turns off most the lights in the room before crawling on the bed. Tomorrow is sure to be a long day, might as well get rest while he can.

He wakes up not even five hours later, Alec’s longer body pressed close despite the fact when he had fallen asleep there was probably a quarter of the bed between them. From the looks of it, both of them had moved in their sleep, drawing them closer together with the taller man’s nose pressed into the curly hair at the top of his head. Their fingers are intertwined, with his thumb gently stroking the side of his soulmate’s hand.

He holds still, taking in the sounds of the house and the spy he is sleeping with. Ah, that’s why he is waking up, Alec is having unpleasant dreams if the older man’s breathing is anything to go by.

Quietly, he starts speaking in Scottish Gaelic, talking about computers and repairs, programming and all the wonderful things that can be done with them. He keeps speaking until the spy’s breathing evens out, and the tension fades from the older man’s body. Even after Alec falls back into the more restful sleep, he keeps talking gently, until he is sure that the nightmares will not return.

Carefully, he wiggles his way off the bed, grabbing his laptop and putting it on the nightstand before smiling at the tea service left in front of his bedroom door. He definitely appreciates the gesture, even if the tea is mostly cold now from him sleeping through the hottest stages. That’s alright however, he has the hotplate he can use to rewarm it.

After heating the tea, he returns to the bed in order to work on his laptop for a bit, spending some time chatting with Aither while improving one of his favorite codes to play with when needing to clear his mind.

Dmitri will start tonight, which will be useful, because he really hates cold tea, but doesn’t want to leave the room to fetch more with Alec asleep since he knows the older man doesn’t wake up very well by himself at this point. He’s sure at this point a shrink would say their relationship is a bit codependent, but it’s not something he will worry about until his spy is on his feet again. If it is still that way then, well, he’ll take steps to correct it. Even if some of those steps are painful. Of course, it could be meaningless by then, particularly since he is sure Alec will walk once the soulmarks are shown.

Shaking his head, he brings his mind back to his planning for Dmitri, plotting what he plans on doing for time fillers because he definitely will not be needing an assistant all the time. Tipping his head aside, he quickly compiles a list of things he can have Dmitri do, with the number one thing be of assistance with tasks around the house that Svetlana may need.

Before he realizes it, hours have passed and there is a soft knock at the door.

Carefully withdrawing from the bed, he walks over to the door and opens it.

“Good morning Ivan,” the housekeeper murmurs. “Fresh tea and breakfast?”

He smiles, “That’d be appreciated,” his ears perk as he hears Alec waking. “Coffee, too please,” he requests.

She nods, “I’ll tell Grishko,” she states, waiting for him to grab his tea service for her before heading to the kitchen. While she’s not scared of Alec the way Masha is, she is still cautious about entering the room while his spy is sleeping or nearly asleep.

Closing the door, he turns back to the bed with the hints of a smile, “Morning.”

“Still sleeping,” the agent grumbles into the pillow.

The hints of a smile become a full fledged smile as he considers the older man.

“Svetlana is bringing breakfast and coffee,” he states, asking, “Would you care to use the bathroom first?”

The older man’s sardonyx head lifts out from under the pillows Alec buried himself in to study him for a long minute before nodding slowly.

The next little bit is spent getting the spy out of bed and to the bathroom. Thankfully, they seem to be getting this down to a pattern. At least, Alec isn’t glaring at him quite as much anymore, though it could just be the fact his soulmate isn’t fully awake yet.

He's also thankful that Svetlana takes a little bit to get back to the room, giving them time for Alec to use the to loo and get back to bed. Particularly since he knows how much his spy hates feeling weak before others. That is based on conversations he's had with Valentin and the records he's gone through very carefully whenever his spy is sleeping.

Alec is just getting comfortable on the bed when the housekeeper returns with their breakfast. She taps twice at the door before he calls out that she can enter. Humming, she comes bustling in with a large tray that has two covered plates plus two pots. One with Earl Grey for him and the other coffee for Alec.

“I wasn't sure if you are a dark roast or light roast type, so I went with medium.” She announces, motioning for him to sit down so she can give them their food. "You tell me if it's the wrong sort of coffee for breakfast tomorrow.”

He smiles at Alec's startled expression as the spy watches her closely, probably trying to get her motivation.

"Thank you,” he replies, settling on the bed next to Alec. At this point there is no way for the older man to easily feed himself.

Once she is gone, he takes the tops off the dishes still on the tray and shakes his head, muttering about there being far more than needed. Of course, both Gregor and Svetlana keep trying to fatten him up. Insisting that he is underweight and needs to eat more. Well, right now they only need one plate. For one thing, he doesn’t eat that much, for another Alec is in no shape to be eating that much either. Setting the second plate aside, he grabs the silverware for both, and makes sure their cups are both full of something to drink before turning to his companion.

“Since there is more food than either of us is eating at this point, what would you like to start with?” he queries with a small smile.

Alec’s eyes look over the offerings on the plate before answering, “Eggs,” voice a bit rough.

"With or without cheese?” he asks as he motions to the cheese covered ones. He doesn’t like plain eggs.

His spy’s lips tip upwards in a smirk as he replies, “Pick.”

“With cheese it is,” he comments as he spears a piece.

The next little bit is spent with him taking turns feeding himself and the agent. Every few bites he checks to see if Alec would like some coffee. It takes them just a little over an hour to eat enough to finish breakfast, before he sets the second plate aside too.

“Take a nap,” he suggests when he sees the tired and pained expression on his soulmate’s face.

“I’m sick of sleeping,” the spy grumbles, sliding down slowly so the older man’s head is resting against his hip once more.

He brushes the sardonyx hair away from the older man’s face, murmuring in Scottish Gaelic, “Probably, but the more you sleep, the quicker you heal since you are putting less stress on the breaks.”

A low hiss of pain is Alec’s response as the older man’s fingers find and tighten against his sleeping bottoms. He understands that it is mostly reflexive, rather than choice.

Continuing to stroke the dark-gold hair, he starts speaking of his homelife prior to his parents vanishing, letting the cadence of his voice sooth the older man into sleep. 

Following breakfast, Svetlana very carefully slips in the room to collect up the dishes, double checking how much tea and coffee they have, and going to slip out just as quietly.

Just before she slides through the door he murmurs, “Can you pass me my sketch book and the pencils?”

She nods, shifting the tray to the side in order to grab the materials he requested and pass them to him.

“I’ll return in a bit to check on you,” she tells him quietly, finally slipping from the room.

Carefully shifting around so he can bend the leg opposite of Alec, he balances the sketch book and sets the pencil to paper. His mind is busy figuring out what his next moves are going to be still. Just because he has one plan, doesn’t mean it would be a bad idea to have several other plans. Besides, he also needs to plan for the future, he’ll be eighteen in a few weeks, and while Valentin seems to like him, he’s moderately certain his biological father doesn’t want him around all the time. Of course, he’ll have to decide whether to stay in Russia, return to England or Scotland. Maybe he will pay the states and Aither a visit.

Really all of it will depend on how things go with Alec once the spy is on his feet again.

Hours pass as his soulmate rests and he sketches with one hand and the other never leaving Alec. His mind still going over all the details he needs. When the agent starts to stir, he sets his supplies aside, not even bothering to look at what he has made.

“Hello,” he murmurs, stopping the hand stroking the sardonyx locks absently.

“How long?” his soulmate queries sleepily.

Glancing over at the clock he answers, “Nine hours, lunch has come and passed.”

A low groan is the only reaction he gets.

Biting back a smile, he asks, “Bathroom?”

It takes a few more minutes before the spy nods against his side.

Carefully he untangles himself, slipping from the bed and moving around to the side in order to get the wheelchair and help Alec move. At this point he is still the one taking all the weight for moving the taller man, thankfully his soulmate doesn’t deadweight on him, which is really appreciated. The trip to and from the bathroom is relatively easy. A large part of which is due to Alec being a fast study and not _overly_ pigheaded. It’s allowed them to work out a system and that is something he greatly appreciates.

“What were you working on?” Alec queries curiously when blue-green eyes land on his sketch book.

For a moment he considers not sharing, but shrugs and hands it over. Let the spy make what he will of the things he has drawn.

The next several minutes are silent as the book is balanced on the older man slowly thumbs through the pages, eyes giving away nothing as he does so. When Alec is done, the spy closes it and tips his head to the side speculatively, emotions flashing through vibrant green-blue eyes faster than he can register.

No matter, he will just bring that look to forethought later, he’s sure when his soulmate is sleeping he will have plenty of time to try and figure it out later.

“Do this a lot?” the agent queries softly, motioning to the now closed book.

Shrugging, he answers, “It’s one of my hobbies, I like making things.”

Alec nods in response, watching him with a thoughtful expression.

“I actually considered tinkering, but I’d have to get everything out and that can be a bit noisy.” He pauses for a moment as he lifts the sketch book to set it aside once more. “‘Sides, I tend to forget the world around me when I get to tinkering.”

Rising, he puts his sketch materials away, done for the time because he figured out what he needed. At least he thinks he did. Not that any of it matters until Alec can walk. He needs to focus on something, anything else until then or he will drive himself around the bin.

“Would you like to read, or I can read to you?” he offers, remembering the book he had been reading to the older man just the day before. Why does it seem like it was far longer than that? Oh yes, he’s not good at sharing his space with other people thanks to one of his cousins. As long as Alec was out, he had been fine, because a sleeping or drugged person could not cause the sort of problems an awake person could.

Studying him again, the older man nods once in agreement.

Grabbing the book from two days before, he settles back on the bed, making sure he is positioned so Alec can lean against him if the spy wants to, before he opens it up to two pages prior to where they left off and starts reading again.

At first his agent stays in place, but slowly the older man scoots closer until they are pressed together from ankle to shoulder once more. He smiles but continues to read, right up until a knock at the door draws his attention from the book and the way his soulmate is cuddled.

“Ivan?” Svetlana’s voice calls softly through the door.

“Come in,” he responds with a quick glance at Alec who’s still awake, if only barely according to his expression.

The housekeeper opens the door, stepping just inside the door. “Gregor is nearly done with dinner. Valentin has been called away. He wanted me to tell you he should be back by the morning.”

Of course his father is away again, he’s pretty sure the doctor is gone far more often than he is here.

Shaking his head, he ignores that fact in order to focus on the food remark. “Thank you,” he tells her, “Please bring one plate when it’s ready but two sets of silverware. Neither of us will eat a full plate so anything more is a bit much.”

She frowns but nods, leaving the room and muttering about the fact they need to eat more. He has to hold back a chuckle because it is not the first time he has heard that about himself.

“Bathroom before dinner?” he asks the drowsing man.

Eyes flickering open, Alec starts to stretch before freezing in place, a silent gasp of pain on his lips. “Yes,” the agent answers roughly.

They repeat the process from before lunch, and once more Svetlana shows up just as they are getting settled. If he didn’t know better, he’d be worried she had a bug in his room. However, he knows there isn’t one because he checks for them. After all, it’s not safe to be a hacker and get spied on.

Instead of coffee, there is juice, milk, and tea. He bites back a chuckle at the look of annoyance that comes with the tea. Like lunch he takes turns feeding both of them, though he makes sure his spy gets more of the food since Alec is the one slowly recovering from way too many injuries.

After dinner he goes back to reading to the older man, knowing that the book will probably be done today or tomorrow at the latest. That’s alright he has a bunch of other books as well that he can read.

Roughly half hour before Dmitri is suppose to show up, he glances down at his soulmate to notice the fact the older man is sleeping against his side.

Smiling softly, he brushes the sardonyx hair aside, eyes sweeping over the almost peaceful features before he carefully wiggles himself away and gets off the bed.

Alec starts to wake, and he quickly soothes his spy back into sleeping.

Glancing at the clock, he notices the time and groans because Dmitri will be here in less than ten minutes and he still hasn’t printed off the papers he wanted to. Well then, he’ll do it tomorrow while Svetlana is here. She can keep an eye on Alec while he uses the printer.

Stretching once he straightens up again, he heads to his bedroom door, opening it slightly so he will be able to hear the front door. If he would have been thinking about it, he would have made arrangements for Gregor to stick around in order to show Dmitri the kitchen. No matter, he won’t need food tonight so it’s really only a matter of showing his new assistant where the tea and coffee making materials are.

Now he's just waiting for the attempted pickpocket to show up.


	16. Sketches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place when Alec is shown Jon’s sketch pad, but I didn’t feel like switching views just for it

Alec’s POV  
One of the things he is curious about is what the teenager does while he is sleeping if not working on the laptop. Despite that, he doesn’t actually expect a straight answer when he asks. After all, so far the teen has told him a massive amount yet most of it would be considered trivial information, nothing meaningful. So when Jon lifts the notebook his eyes flickered over and sets it on his lap, he’s quite surprised.

Slowly he works his way through the pages, discovering it is a sketch book, not a notebook like he originally thought. What he finds inside is remarkable.

It’s a series of pictures and designs. Each meticulously crafted. Every line clean and defined. Every color precise or dreamy as the image calls for. He can see the care taken. Some are gadgets and devices, things that could be improved upon. Detailed schematics that show every step of the building process with little notes written down the side in what appears to be steno, though not like any steno he’s familiar with. Others are people. The most common one is a woman that is most likely Jon’s mum, because their features are very similar. While the rest are of other people, some are only rough sketches, others are detailed drawings.

When he reaches the back side of the sketch book he is surprised to discover several images of himself. Some are of him sleeping, probably from when he was first brought here judging by the fact that they are less detailed. It appears as Jon made more of them, he added more details. The portraits are surreal. It’s like looking at something from his past, not his present.

Why? He doesn’t look like that, he thinks as he studies each of the images slowly. He hasn’t looked that good in years. Not since Arkhangelsk.

As he closes the sketch book, he asks, “Do this a lot?”

There is something nervous about the way Jon shrugs as the teen answers, “It’s one of my hobbies, I like making things.”

Thinking about that response, he nods, wondering why there is hesitation and shyness in that response. From what he can tell, Jon’s not shy, well, with information anyways. He’s not seen the younger man’s body except hands, feet, and head but that’s not an issue. He just figures that it is Jon’s British upbringing that makes him not want show off his body.

His thoughts are interrupted by the younger man commenting, “I actually considered tinkering, but I’d have to get everything out and that can be a bit noisy.” Pausing, Jon lifts the sketch book to set it aside once more. “‘Sides, I tend to forget the world around me when I get to tinkering.”

He just nods in understanding. When he gets to making bombs and other explosives he’s like that. From what he had seen in those designs, it makes sense Jon would feel like that as well.

Gently, the teenager asks if he’d like to read or be read to, which he just nods in agreement. His mind switches back to the topic of those drawings. Why does Jon have them? Why did the teen make them? How is it even close to possible that the teen sees him that way? Does it improve his chances of something in the future or is it just the younger man’s way of trying to imagine what he looked like in the past?

Hours are spent with his mind going over them repeatedly, trying to figure out the motivation behind those images while listening to the soft words flowing from the younger man’s lips.

The thing he keeps coming back to is how they portray him. They don’t make sense. He doesn’t look like that. Hasn’t looked like that in _years._

Slowly his mind rebuilds each detail, realizing that there is scarring in the images but it’s not that dramatic or noticeable. That can’t be right. He’s seen the scarring in the mirror plenty of times to know it is not minor or mild. Not like that.

Only. . . .there have been several times where Lilya and Dayesi have told him he is still an attractive man and he dismissed that. After all, they work for him, they have to be nice. There have been strangers that have watched him too, at the time he thought it was in disgust, people are like that, but now he wonders if it might have been something else.

Closing his eyes, he tries to bring his focus onto the story that Jon is softly reading to him, but finds he can’t. Instead his mind keeps showing him the pictures, each and every one. Each more detailed than the last, but none of them as horrible as he thought.

He wants to understand, yet it seems to be outside his grasp.

Instead he finds himself drifting off to sleep even though he would rather not.


	17. Open Door

Jon’s POV  
Dmitri shows up exactly five minutes before he is expected, the toffee-blonde dressed in what he assumes is the second best outfit owned. Hmmmm, perhaps he should see about taking him clothing shopping? The styles not bad, just the fact there are visible repairs and doesn’t look like it would be very comfortable to wear.

They’ll discuss that actually, he thinks as he opens the door to let the taller man in.

“Good evening,” he greets his new PA. “Do you have a preference for what you wish to be called?”

The older man blinks at him, clearly not expecting that question.

“For instance,” he offers, “I prefer Jon, but answer to Ivan as well.”

“Dmitri would be fine,” the toffee-blonde answers slowly, as if trying to decide how to answer.

He nods, stepping to the side so his new assistant can step through.

“Right, quick tour of the house,” he announces, “Duties are easy enough, stay out of my room and run errands. I don’t leave my room a lot, and sometimes can’t because of the patient I am caring for. Anytime your time overlaps with Svetlana and Gregor they can ask you to assist, though any errands I might need would be first.”

At this time he doesn’t see it as Dmitri’s business, so he is not planning on explaining anything about Alec.

The next several minutes are spent showing the older man where everything is at before he makes himself tea and Alec coffee to take with him back to his room.

“Do you need a hand?” Dmitri asks as he picks up the tray.

“No,” he answers absently, mind turning to an idea he just had about how to improve heated electric kettles so they wouldn’t burn out the way his last two had. “I’ve got this, though I will need a fresh tea in a bit, at which point I will put the tray on the floor outside my room.”

His new PA nods, following him back to the room and looking like he’s not sure what else to do.

At his door, he pauses to ask, “Are most of your clothes patched like that?”

Dmitri’s shoulders seem to curl inwards, as if embarrassed by the question.

“Then I will make sure to include funds for less patched clothing for yourself and the others of your family.” He remarks opening the door enough for him to slide through, “Winters here can be a bit much. At least that’s what it seemed like to me last year.”

Without waiting for the toffee-blonde to respond, he slips in his room, using his heel to close the door lightly behind him.

Sure enough when he glances at the bed Alec is waking up, splinted hands searching the bed where he had been sitting earlier.

“Hello,” he murmurs as he crosses the floor. “I was fetching tea and telling the new assistant what his duties are.”

It’s a rather curious thing how tense Alec suddenly gets, body going still as he does so.

That’s interesting, he thinks, tilting his head slightly as he walks over to the bed.

“It will make things a bit easier, for both of us, if I can send someone to do errands rather than leave the room unexpectedly.” He comments, “Especially right now during the difficult stages of your healing and the fact I seem to be the only person you like or tolerate.”

As he slips into the spot next to Alec, pressing their bodies from ankle to shoulder once more, he feels more than sees the way the spy starts to relax again.

Yep, definitely like his da.

He helps Alec take a drink of his coffee before grabbing the book and returning to reading softly aloud until his soulmate drifts off to sleep.

It’s alright, he thinks, I won’t let anyone harm you while you recover. I might not have a lot of experience, but I make up for that with talent and innovation.

He knows he will be getting a little less sleep while he adjusts to having someone in the house outside of the three that are normally here. That’s all right. It’s no different than when he first came to stay here. It will just take a little bit of time for him to adapt.

For the most part, the following week goes smoothly. Dmitri quickly settles into his tasks easily, promptly being adopted by Svetlana and Gregor which seems to make the toffee-blonde feel welcome and at home. By the beginning of the second week, he has started to sleep just a little bit more, though still not as much as most would consider healthy. Thankfully he doesn’t require a lot of sleep.

Just before Dmitri is to show up on day eight of working for him, he decides to use the library printer because he has a bit of code he wants to look at on paper. He doesn’t worry that his new PA will go into his room because the older man has shown no indications of wanting to.

Only, as he returns to his room, he sees Dmitri opening his door a bit hesitantly, and he slows down slightly to see what the toffee-blonde will do. Perhaps the PA is planning on calling for him because he mentioned his shower is through his bedroom. Only that’s not what happens. Instead the older man pushes the door open a bit more and acts like he is getting ready to step through into his room.

Setting the papers on the floor, he quickly closes the space between them, using his body to check the bigger man against his door as it crashes the rest of the way open. His forearm slams into the back of the taller man’s neck as he hisses in Russian, “I was very clear about staying out of my room.”

“Yes,” Dmitri nearly gasps, body freezing in place against the door, he’s probably in shock.

“I hired you to do a few simple tasks. Me, not someone else, and if you are working for someone else I would suggest you leave and not come back because I will not tolerate being double crossed.” He continues just as furiously. “Actually, get out, do not come back until tomorrow, I don’t want to see you.”

He pushes himself backwards and away from the toffee-blonde, but maintains a protective stance between the bed and the door.

“Sir, please, I-” Dmitri babbles as he straightens away from the door.

“I said leave,” he orders, not giving the older man a chance to speak.

He’s quite sure that Alec has been woken up already and he’s not happy about that since his soulmate was having a bad day, rest was needed.

Nodding, his PA leaves the room and he closes the door. Freezing in place, he remembers his papers and goes to fetch them.

Damn it all, what the hell was Dmitri thinking? He thinks as he returns to his room, shutting and locking the door behind himself.


	18. Wrong Choice

Dmitri’s POV  
Working for Jon for the last week has been wonderful. Yes, the hours are a bit odd, but it’s alright because he has time to spend with his family during the day, and eat dinner with them before leaving to work at night. In the mornings before he leaves the Markov household the cook makes him breakfast and coffee, inviting him to join the other household staff for a little bit. He feels accepted by the trio, even if he doesn’t actually work for the same person as them, he does work for the same household.

So when he gets in and has Svetlana tell him that Jon is in the library, he makes the very brash decision to just peek in the bedroom. He’s only going to open the door and glance in, not actually go in, so he’s not breaking the rules, he thinks. He just wants to know what sort of set up his boss prefers and if he can possibly get a quick glance at the patient that Masha calls violent and dangerous, yet is allowed to stay with a teenage boy.

It is true that his boss seems to be an unusual teenager, but he is still a teenager.

So he opens the door slowly, trying not to disturb whoever the patient is, only before he has had a chance to peek inside, he is slammed into the door rather violently. His entire body connects hard and a shock of pain going through him.

It takes him a minute to understand that it is his boss, the teenager who’s several centimeters shorter than him that has him pinned to the door by the back of his neck, making it hard for him to breath.

“I was very clear about staying out of my room,” Jon hisses furiously, grip tightening for just a moment.

He makes himself hold as still as possible, not wanting to make his boss any angrier than he already is. “Yes,” he agrees, wanting to nod but not being able to.

Pushing down painfully against his neck, the younger man continues, “I hired you to do a few simple tasks. Me, not someone else, and if you are working for someone else I would suggest you leave and not come back because I will not tolerate being double crossed.” There is a brief pause before Jon releases him and shoves backwards, ordering, “Actually, get out, do not come back until tomorrow, I don’t want to see you.”

Slowly straightening his body and turning towards his boss, he tries to explain, it is almost a compulsion because he doesn’t want Jon to be angry with him. “Sir, please, I-”

Only the teen interrupts him, repeating, “I said leave,”

He nods slowly, backing out of the room without actually looking around. Right now he’s too terrified to make any more mistakes. What if this costs him his job or even his freedom? How would he be able to help his soulmates if he has made that big of a mistake? What was he thinking wanting to look in his boss’ room? That was so very stupid of him! What if he ruined the best thing to happen to him since the birth of Mikhail just because he was curious? Fuck! What is he going to do?

He doesn’t want to leave the house, yet he is terrified that if he stays to try and explain he will make things worse, so he leaves quickly and quietly.

Even though he knows he should go home, he wanders the city, not ready to go home and admit his failure. He doesn’t want to stress his beautiful Khorya. How is he going to tell her and Sesha that he might have lost his job and put their family at risk just because he was curious about what was behind the door?

What is he going to do if Jon decides to fire him? There is little to no chance of finding another job that is as good as this one. Little to no chance of providing for his family. He risked everything just because he was curious and now he doesn’t know what’s going to happen. Hopefully when he shows up tomorrow he can plead his case and beg pardon, figuring out some way to make it up to Jon. Just how is he going to do that?

He’s cold when he finds himself standing in front of his home, staring up at the old house and wishing he could provide better for his family. If he can keep this job, if he can convince Jon to give him a second chance it will be possible to do so.

“Dima, you’re early from work,” Sesha comments as he slips out the front door.

He just nods, not ready to go inside and tell them about his mistake.

Confused but still happy to see him, his soulmate quickly moves to where he is standing, giving him a tight hug before guiding him into the house, whether he is ready or not.

“Come on Dima, you’re freezing!” Sergei encourages him, hands rubbing his arms through his thin shirt.

Tiredly, he follows, pausing just inside the door, staring at the steps that lead upstairs and their rooms.

“Come on love,” his husband murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw and encouraging him to move towards the stairs.

Nodding, he takes the steps slowly, still trying to decide how to explain his mistake to his loves. Particularly since it could damage things in ways he doesn’t want to think about.

When they get to the room, he is happy to see that Khorya is still resting in their bed and that their son is currently not with her.

“Dima, what’s wrong?” she mumbles as she blinks her eyes slowly coming aware. One hand moves to the soulmark that represents them, the spiral web and flower. He forgot that there are times she knows something is wrong just because of their shared marks.

“I made a mistake,” he whispers, standing in the middle of the room, staring at their floor.

“Sesha,” Khorya states, and he hears the clear command in it.

“Of course, love,” Sesha agrees, stepping next to him in order to carefully peel him from his clothing before lightly pushing him towards the bed in nothing but his boxer-briefs.

He curls up on the bed, head resting lightly on his very pregnant soulmate’s belly, simply listening to hers and the babies heartbeats.

A moment later Sesha is behind him wrapping slender arms about him.

“Tell us Dima, let us share the burden to make it less,” his wife murmurs as she folds herself slightly to kiss the top of his head.

Several minutes pass in silence as his loves curl around him, holding and petting him, offering him comfort and love, understanding and reassurance.

Eventually he starts talking quietly, “There is only one rule: do not go in Jon’s room. I opened the door when I knew he wasn’t there, I wasn’t going to go in, just take a peek, but,” his voice trails off as he remembers how hard such a small man was able to slam him into the wall. The way his boss’ voice grew icy and fury had filled every word. “He told me to leave. Not to come back if I was working for someone else. To come back tomorrow if I wasn’t. I have to prove I can be trusted, but I think I blew it.”

More time passes with his loves continuing to hold and cuddle him, still trying to be reassuring.

“Just talk to him, from everything you have said, your boss is a good man. Apologize honestly and sincerely and he will let you stay,” Khorya suggests, scattering kisses across his head.

Sesha brushes kisses across his back and shoulders, murmuring comfortingly, gentle words of reassurance that he feels against his skin more than hears.

“Maybe make something special for him. You make wonderful pies or some other treat.” His wife advises, hands petting him gently.

“Maybe,” he whispers hopefully. “I don’t want to ruin everything. I’m so foolish.”

“You won’t,” his husband reassures him. “You try too hard to do the right thing to ruin everything. It will be alright.”

The rest of the evening is spent with his soulmates comforting him and reassuring him that he is not in the wrong, that he will be able to make everything better, and just being there for him. He falls asleep curled between them, knowing whatever comes they will stay with him.

In the morning he is the first one up. The first thing he does is make breakfast for the four of them. His portion is the smallest, mostly because Gregor and Svete keep feeding him big meals every time he shows up at the house so he is all right with sharing his food, they need it more than he does.

Once he is done making breakfast, he goes and gets Mikhail up and feeds him while Sergei is taking care of their Khorya.

"Would you like to help me make bread?" he asks his son when breakfast is over. "And help me wash the dishes?"

"Yes!" the little boy exclaims happily, jumping up and down.

For a while he works with Mikhail, first to get the dishes and breakfast cleaned up, then to make sure the kitchen is clean enough to make bread in. When they get done with that, he tells their little boy what is needed so that Minchuk can grab it and they can start the process of making bread. They work through Khorya and Sesha coming downstairs and Sesha leaving for work.

By the time they are done they've made several loaves of bread. Some better than others, but all of them will be eaten.

"I'm going to head over there a little early," he tells Khorya, kissing her forehead. "Best do my groveling before I am due on shift." He smiles warmly, "Need anything before I go?"

"No, Dima," his love answers. "Misha and I will be fine. God willing, Mr. Jon will accept the apology and everything will be fine."

He kisses the pair, bidding them goodnight and telling Minchuk to behave for Khorya. Of course their son happily agrees, head bobbing as he swears he'll be momma's helper.

Carefully packing the bread up, he heads over to his boss' house. He's relieved when Svete let's him in without question and a warm smile. That's a bit of a relief. Maybe his job isn't forfeit.

Heading to the room, he stops in front of the door and shifts from foot to foot as he reminds himself why he is there early.

He's just lifted his hand to knock when Jon opens the door, standing there with his hand resting on the handle.

"Good afternoon, sir," he greets the teenager. Thrusting the wrapped bread towards the younger man, he quickly stutters out, "I would like to apologize again for my lapse in judgement. It'll not happen again."

Hazel eyes narrow on him, "You didn't have to make something as part of an apology. Just don't repeat the mistake."

"Of course! Thank you, thank you so much!" he babbles, relief flooding his system.

He doesn't get to say too much more before the door is shut in his face, hand still grasping the bread.

"Dima, come eat dinner, there is extras and you're still too thin," Svete tells him as she passes by, a tray in her grasp.

With one last glance at the door, he nods, following her to the kitchen.


	19. A Few Weeks Pass

Jon's POV  
Over the next few weeks they manage to get into a bit of a pattern. He takes care of Alec, making sure the spy doesn't do anything to make himself worse. During the day he gets assistance from Svetlana and Gregor, occasionally from Valentin when his father comes to check on the agent. At night Dmitri is there, serious and quick to help. He almost feels like there is a case of hero-worship going on.

Alec sleeps more than he does, though he tries to time it so they are in bed at the same time for slumber. Particularly since he knows that he has a hard time staying asleep when someone else is in the room with him. That instinct is doubly reinforced by the fact his soulmate is dangerous, and he recognizes that danger. Thankfully sleep is not something he requires a lot of. 

When he's awake and his agent isn't he works on the laptop or sketches. In the last couple of weeks he’s had several different jobs where he tested different security systems for pay. If it happens to give him a good reason to find extra information, well, information gathering is what he does. Well, along with competing against Aither, but that's a completely different matter.

Aither finds it completely hilarious that both of his soulmates are spies that used to work together. Even joked about the hacker and the spies. Of course she doesn't have soulmarks, so she also finds it amazing that his takes up the majority of his torso. She also finds it fascinating that his marks have changed over the years. It's a topic they have discussed several different times, before and since his discovery of who his soulmates are. 

When they are both awake, he helps Alec with anything he needs and reads to the older man, slowly making his way through the collection of books he has in French on the bookcase. Most of them are action or adventure, but some are myths, legends, and romantic tales. It surprises him every time his soulmate drifts off to sleep beside him while he is reading aloud. 

Every time that happens, when Alec's body loses the tenseness that fills it during the day, he closes the book, setting it aside on the nightstand beside the bed. His eyes slowly rake over the older man, taking in the small signs of healing and little changes that have occurred. It seems as if Alec has decided he is trustworthy, or his spy's instincts think he is trustworthy, because his soulmate seems to be comforted by him, sleeps better when he is nearby, and relaxes better when he's in the room. 

It's a large part of why he hired Dmitri. Since then, it seems to be even more noticeable. There have even been a few times he has woken up with the older man curled around him and not just against his side. Long limbs holding him in place as they snuggle against each other. There are times he wakes up to fingers slipping beneath his shirt against his skin. While he knows the soulmarks aren't raised and can't actually be felt, it makes him freeze in fear every time, until he is able to extract himself from the grasp.

Allergies were probably the hardest thing for him to figure out. He understands it's because Alec is a spy first and foremost, but still, it makes things difficult for him when he accidently set off an episode just because the spy refused to tell him that quince did not agree with him. Instead he found out when after they finished a shared bowl of fruit, the older man had a hard time breathing and he fetched an epi in order to take care of the problems. Luckily, after the snarling match that followed he managed to get a list of things that Alec has physical issues with. It's short, only three items, but that's not the point. How is he to avoid them if he doesn't know?

Food is always a fun topic for them, mostly because Alec doesn't say what he likes, dislikes, or loves. He has to figure that out based on reactions and requests. Thankfully that's something he can do with little problem since he pays close attention anyways. The fancier the food, the less Alec likes it, whether he likes the individual parts or not. He's pretty sure that's due to their third soulmate. Finger foods and meals that can be eaten quickly seem to be favorites, and he had a hard time containing his laughter when he discovered his soulmates love of chips smothered in cheese, bacon, and salsa mix.

Alec is healing. Sometimes showing far more patience than others, but definitely healing. Check ups with Valentin are fun, his spy either cooperates and they go very smoothly, or the older man doesn't and he ends up asking his father to wait outside while they have a chat. Soon his soulmate will need to start rehab. He's already started ordering the supplies needed according to the websites and information he's been able to gather. There is a lounge at the back of the house he's going to convert and he'll leave the things for Valentin to use. 

Most days he does all the talking, at least about anything remotely personal. What little things he does learn he covets like treasures. After all, there is a difference between learning everything through a file and having Alec tell him something willingly.

He's the one who eventually asks if there is anyone that Alec would like him to notify that he is still alive. After all, there has to be at least one person in this world that would care about whether his soulmate is alive or not. Actually, he's pretty sure there are two, or at least the name Janus is tied to two different people besides his spy. The only question is: is it a work connection only or something deeper?


	20. Quiet Conversation

Jon's POV  
It's another week before Alec admits that he would like to speak with his second in charge of the Janus network. He's working on his laptop at his desk when his spy softly states, "Pyotr would most likely want to know I'm alive."

He glances over, nodding because he can remember a Pyotr Bogdan in the files he found about Janus. "If you want, I can bring a phone in here so you can call." Smiling playfully, he offers, "You know it won't be monitored just because I'm a hacker and make sure not to let people in on my lines."

A soft chuckle escapes the older man as he slowly nods.

"Well then, I'll go get a phone," he agrees, standing and rolling his shoulders. He'd actually prefer to stretch, but not here where his shirt could ride up and show of the marks.

"Not yet," Alec comments softly, eyes closing for a moment.

It takes him a moment to understand why not immediately and when he does, he nods slowly, "Okay." He's considering telling Alec that if this Pyotr actually cares, then the fact he's not in the best shape will not matter.

A sharp knock draws his attention before he has a chance to say anything more. Since he is already standing, he moves over to the door to open it, revealing Gregor with a plate of beef something.

"I tried a new recipe," the cook comments with a hopeful expression.

Accepting the plate, he says, "We'll tell you what we think."

The cook beams at him, nodding happily as he turns and leaves.

He shakes his head smiling at the older man's antics as he walks over to the bedside table that he uses for food. Then returns to the door to close it, only to stop so Svetlana can bring the tea tray in and set it on his desk.

"Thank you," he tells her with a smile.

She nods, glancing between the two of them with a smile of her own. "Do you need anything else?" She asks, making sure to meet both his and Alec's gaze.

He shakes his head no, but let's Alec answer on his own.

"No," the spy finally responds after a few minutes of her waiting patiently.

"Just call me if you need something," she remarks, heading to the door and closing it behind her.

He has to bite back a chuckle at the aggravated expression on his soulmate's face.

"Are you hungry?" He asks, tipping his head thoughtfully and motioning to the food. "It's lunchtime so we probably should try this."

Alec gives him a frustrated glare which has him biting back another chuckle.

"Come on, you know you want to try it," he says playfully, settling himself on the edge of the bed and grabbing the plate.

His soulmate grumbles for a few moments before giving in and nodding.

"It's beef and broccoli on wild rice," Alec mutters, his eyes flicking over it and away.

It's the same sort of reaction he's gotten out of things tied to James. So is James Asian or just likes Asian foods? He really needs to do a detailed lookup on their other soulmate. So far he only knows a little bit, and that's from times Alec and James worked together.

"I can get something else from Gregor if you'd prefer," he offers softly.

"It's fine," the sardonyx blonde replies.

"Svetlana brought coffee for you, and tea for me," he comments with a glance at the tray. Setting the plate back down, he gets up and grabs the tray, asking himself why he hadn't done that to begin with.

A small smile plays at the edge of his spy's lips, "Coffees better."

He wrinkles his nose as he replies, "Nope. Tea’s better."

They're quiet as they eat, Alec carefully holding the fork so he can spear his own bites of food, while he makes sure the plate doesn't tip and helps with drinks since cups are still a bit beyond his wrists abilities. When they are done, he puts all the dishes on the tray so they can be taken back to the kitchen before grabbing his sketchbook and sprawling back on the bed beside his soulmate.

"You know I am never agreeing that coffee is better," he comments as he flips to the last picture he was working on.

Alec chuckles, retorting, "I'll always think coffee is better."

It's his turn to chuckle, because he is enjoying this more relaxed exchange.

They fall quiet again, he can feel his soulmate's eyes on him as he works on the sketch, but he refuses to allow that to bother him. He knows that none of his skin is showing because he makes sure to keep his shirt tucked in and never stretches enough for it to ride upwards.

He's almost surprised when Alec comments, "Pyotr would try going after James," there is pain in the older man's voice and it makes him want to curl himself around his soulmate and shield him from the world.

"I am guessing that wouldn't end well for either." He guesses, keeping his voice soft, as he glances at the sardonyx blonde from the corner of his eye.

Alec closes his eyes, taking a slow long breath, "No, it wouldn't."

He nods, scooting a little closer so their legs are touching, a silent show of support.

"Dayesi would probably kill James, but not before Pyotr was dead or gravely injured." Alec states, voice so low he wouldn't have heard if he wasn't sitting so close.

He offers a reassuring smile, commenting, "I could always knock him out with electricity after you talk to him so he couldn't go do something stupid."

That seems to startle Alec, who's head jerks around to stare at him as if trying to determine if he is joking or not. "You're being serious," his spy mutters, startled and shocked.

"Of course I'm being serious," he mutters, "Why wouldn't I be serious?"

The corners of his soulmate's lips twitch as if he is trying not to smile or chuckle.

"Well?" he queries, setting his sketchbook down to look at his spy, his own lips twitching in response.

"You know, most people don't offer to electrocute other people to keep them from doing something that could harm them." Alec replies, giving and smiling.

He blinks, tips his head to the side, and shrugs, "They never met my da."

This time his soulmate laughs outright, and he has to stop himself from staring because it makes Alec look so much younger and carefree.

He's _mine_ , he thinks fiercely, now I just have to convince him I'm worth the risk.

Instantly his mind starts whirling as he considers how to do that, numbers and codes flickering as if this is a complex coding situation that needs the closest care he can possibly give.

When the laughter suddenly stops he comes out of his mind only to realize it’s been several minutes longer than he expected and Alec is frowning at him.

"Sorry, I just thought of something to do with a code I have been working on for a few months," he apologizes, telling the truth but not the entire truth. "Ever have a problem that you know you can figure out, but there always seems to be a piece missing no matter what way you come at it?"

"Yes," his soulmate replies with a slow nod, "Mostly regarding assassination attempts.”

He can’t stop the snicker, but covers his mouth to hide the fact he’s smirking, though if Alec’s expression is anything to go by, his spy is well aware of that fact. Taking a breath, he drops his hand, and asks, “So, Pyotr? When are you going to call? If you think he would be willing to go after revenge for you, he’d care that you are alive.”

He’s very careful to keep his voice neutral, but there is a part of him that wonders if this Pyotr is Alec’s lover. That would be a hard thing for him to swallow, even though he is quite sure his soulmate has had lovers. It’s one thing for them to be people in the past, another to actually meet them and know that they care about his spy because they know him and not just because they are soulmates. Of course, he cares about Alec for Alec’s sake and not the soulmarks. The soulmarks just gave him a reason to look into the spy’s history and personality.

The sardonyx blonde looks away, eyes narrow as if he is considering what to do. Eventually the older man sighs, “Soon, not today or tomorrow, but once I start rehab.”

He nods, “Okay, do you want me to find contact information or have you something set up already?”

“I know the information,” Alec answers softly, his eyes shutting as he slides slowly down the bed. “I’m tired,” the spy mumbles, “I hate being tired.”

“Then get some rest, your body’s still healing.” He suggests, absently reaching out to brush his soulmate’s hair out of his face.

He might contact them himself, if Alec puts it off too long. He knows how much he would worry and can’t help but think that this Pyotr is probably worrying right now. Setting the sketchbook aside, he turns out the light and curls up beside the taller man, he’ll try to take a nap and work on his plan some more when he wakes up.


	21. Beginning Physical Therapy

Jon's POV  
The following week the pieces of equipment he ordered for the rehab room start showing up. He speaks with Valentin to double check that the room he plans on converting is not going to be a problem. After his father gives the go ahead, he has Dmitri take almost all the furniture out of the room so he can repurpose it. Then, as the equipment shows up, he has the delivery men or Dmitri set it all up. Of course he double checks everything to make sure it is done correctly.

"Do you really need all of this equipment for rehab?" Dmitri asks after putting the last piece together. "It seems a lot like an exercise room."

Chuckling, he replies, "That's because exercise is a key part of rebuilding the ability to walk and use his limbs again. It's not much different than how a kid learns using furniture to balance and toys for the fine motor skills."

His assistant nods, glancing about at the room’s set up.

Of course, he hasn't told Alec that the room is set up yet, he's waiting for the morning after Valentin does the week eight evaluations. Technically his spy should wait another two weeks before starting rehab, but he has a feeling that isn't going to happen. Better that they are started with supervision rather than allowing the older man to just do things on his own.

In the meantime, he spends any time he's not hacking reading through any information he can get his hands on about physical rehab. He also turns to exercises from the different gymnastics and acrobatic training.

He actually made an appointment with Valentin as to when he will check on Alec's injuries.

Just an hour before his father is supposed to do the check up, his soulmate wakes up, making adorable little noises as he stretches a bit in the bed. "Why are you already up?" the older man asks, voice rough from sleep. "Did you even sleep?"

He's distracted as he replies, "I think I slept an hour, or was it two? Anyways I wanted to finish my reading before Valentin gets in."

"What's so interesting you couldn't sleep?" Alec queries, carefully scooting up so he's sitting instead of laying.

A part of him wants to offer assistance, but he is pretty sure it wouldn't be welcome. Now had he been beside Alec when the spy first woke up, he could have helped without any dirty looks, but because he is sitting at his desk, he know it wouldn't be the same.

"The information on physical rehab following a broken bone, or in your case a lot of broken bones." He answers, pulling his attention away from the site he is on.

Turning to face the older man, he rolls his shoulders and stretches his arms out, fingers laced and pressing outwards. He might use some of that equipment himself, he thinks, he needs the exercise. This is the longest he has gone without leaving the house.

Several minutes are spent in peace and quiet. His head is tilted to the side as he watches Alec watching him. For some reason the older man is studying him like there is something interesting about him, something he can't understand.

"You should sleep more," Alec informs him, green-blue eyes looking a bit troubled as they continue to study him.

He shrugs, answering, "I never sleep a lot. If I wasn't researching this, I'd be awake for some other reason."

His soulmate frowns at him, eyes narrowing in frustration.

Changing the subject, he queries, "Would you like breakfast before Valentin’s visit?"

The older man gives a small shake of his head, "No."

It's his turn to narrow his eyes as he tries to figure out why not without asking, the only thing he figures is any pain caused during the check up might make his stomach upset. That'd make sense.

"How about coffee?" He asks curiously, tone turning playful as he suggests, "or tea?"

"Coffee," Alec answers, the hints of a smile playing at the edge of his spy's lips.

He nods, standing and walking over to the door. When he opens the door, he's not surprised to see Dmitri sitting in the chair someone had placed across from it reading a book. That's how his assistant spends most of his evenings when not running errands or doing something for him.

"Coffee and tea, please, Dmitri," he requests softly. He makes sure not to be too loud because he doesn't want to startle the toffee blonde.

"Yes sir," Dmitri replies, setting his book down and standing up.

"Feel free to call me Jon," he remarks, having done so probably sixty or seventy times. Sometimes it sticks for a few days, sometimes it doesn't.

Shaking his head as his assistant walks away, he slips back inside the room with a rueful smile curving his lips.

"Pyotr's the same way, insists on calling me boss, even when I have told him he doesn't have to," Alec remarks as he settles back at his desk.

Pyotr. . . his mind repeats, almost taunting him, there is a fondness in the spy's voice which he doesn't really hear a lot of. Stop that, he tells himself, no reason to be jealous, it's completely silly to be jealous. Not that that actually stops the feeling. Maybe he needs a really long, hot shower. He's been mostly taking quick ones, a long one would be a nice change. Yeah, he'll do that while Valentin is doing the x-rays and check up.

After a knock at the door, he gets up again, opening it up to reveal his assistant standing there with a tray that he takes with a quick, "Thanks," before closing the door.

"Not that I mind the privacy, but any particular reason you keep him out when Svetlana and Gregor have been in here?" Alec asks curiously.

"Figured you'd prefer the least amount of people seeing you with splints like that," he answers setting the tray down. "Then there is the fact when I first hired him, a sheet and pants were your wardrobe, and I have a feeling that you wouldn't appreciate others seeing you like that based on all the glares I got."

He picks up the coffee, offering it to Alec, with the handle facing the older man so he can grab the cup if he wants. He had Dmitri pick up several mugs with bigger handles, that way his soulmate could use them even with the splints since he knows exactly how independent the spy is. Very carefully, Alec accepts the mug, taking a slow sip and smiling afterwards. He pours his tea, and flavors it to his favorite tastes before returning to his computer desk to sit down. He's not actually planning on turning his computer back on though, because his father should be here in a bit to do the check up.

He's thinking maybe he should say something, anything, when there is a soft knock at the door.

A quick glance at the clock tells him it's Valentin, so he calls out a soft, "Come in."

The door opens silently, and Valentin comes in, carefully bringing the portable x-ray with him.

"Good morning Ivan, Aleksei," his father greets them calmly.

He finds it funny that is father uses his soulmate's undercover name rather than his real name.

"Hello Valentin," he replies with a nod, finishing his tea. "I'm going to take a shower if I'm not needed?"

"That's fine," his father replies, attention on his machine rather than him.

Alec gives him a peculiar look, almost as if he is searching for something.

Standing and setting his cup down, he walks over to the dresser to pick out an outfit. He ignores the questioning look he is getting from Valentin and the searching look Alec. Right now he wants a few minutes to himself. He needs to get a handle on what he's thinking, acting like a jealous idiot is not going to get him what he wants. Hell, at this point he's not even sure he can have what he wants. It all depends on how his soulmate reacts to that news. Once he has his clothing, he heads to the bathroom without saying another word, still feeling their gazes as he does so.

In the bathroom, he closes and locks the door, before heading over to the tub to turn the water on in order to let it warm up. He takes his time undressing, hands tracing over the soulmarks.

He's known about Pyotr Bogdan since he researched Alec's history, why does he feel jealous every time his soulmate mentions Bogdan? Because there is a fondness in Alec's voice whenever he says Bogdan's name.

Climbing in the shower, he forces those thoughts away. He's not going to be jealous, he tells himself, it's perfectly understandable why his soulmate would have people he's fond of. Isn't he fond of Aither? Until he is given evidence otherwise, he will think of Alec and Bogdan's relationship the same way as his and Aither's.

With that resolved, he sets to washing himself quickly, he wants to see the x-rays and see how well his idea has been working. True he could always just go in the office and look, but that feels almost rude. Not that it would stop him. After all, information gathering is what he does, no matter the topic.

Getting out of the shower, he dries and dresses, returning to his bedroom sooner than he had originally planned on it.

He seems to surprise Valentin and Alec as he settles at his desk silently.

"The breaks are healing better than expected," Valentin remarks. "I'm going to hazard a guess it's because you're actually letting them heal rather than stressing them."

He can hear the unspoken 'Ivan's not letting you harm yourself' in that statement.

Apparently so can Alec according to the way dark green eyes flicker over him before the spy nods once.

"As Ivan has been studying up on safe practices for physical rehab, I will leave that in his capable hands." His father comments, packing away his things and turning to him. "Whenever you feel it's time, as long as it's not too much too fast, he can start the rehab I am sure you are already plotting."

He bites back a chuckle, deciding it probably wouldn't be best as he nods once in agreement, "Yes," he nods again. "I have Dmitri setting everything up."

Valentin smiles at him, "See, just like I thought."

Something flashes across Alec's face, he'd almost say it's jealousy, but he can't figure out what Alec would be jealous of.

"Well, I'm going to go," his father remarks, "I need to update several files. If you need me I will be in my office."

He nods, "Okay." Standing, he follows his father out, closing the door behind him and commenting, "I have the rehab room all set up already. I figured he would start getting pushy about getting up here soon."

"Truthfully, I am surprised he has cooperated so well, Ivan, previously he did not cooperate this well." Valentin remarks, "Whatever you are doing to keep him from reinjuring himself is working. Are you sure you do not wish to go into medicine, Ivan?"

"Quite sure, thank you, I enjoy information gathering far too much," he replies with a shrug. "Tomorrow I will start him with the most basic parts, will it be safe to remove the braces to do so?"

Rubbing his chin, his father thinks about the question for a minute before answering, "The leg braces yes, the wrist braces no. He still needs at least two to three weeks on the wrists before he is even close to being able to use them."

He nods, "Then I will make sure he doesn't use them." Pausing for a moment, his lips twitch upwards in a smile, "Well any more than he already does."

"The fine motor skills you are working with are fine, it's the weight bearing of anything more than a cup that he can't do right now." His father agrees with the hints of a smile.

A moment later, Dmitri comes walking down the hall carrying a new tray, this one with a plate of fruit, bread, jam, fresh coffee and tea. "I thought I'd bring down breakfast before I leave."

"Thank you," he tells Dmitri. Accepting the tray, he asks, "Starting next Wednesday I will need assistance throughout the day. Would you like to stay on the night shift and I hire someone else, or should I hire someone for the night shift and you will take the day shift?"

Dmitri meets his gaze steadily, answering, "Can I give you my answer tomorrow?"

"Of course, I hope you have a good day, Dmitri." He replies calmly.

"Thank you sir, have a good day," his assistance states before leaving.

"He's very diligent," Valentin comments as they watch his assistant walk away.

"Yes," he hums in agreement, "He'll take the day shift. Thankfully he's bigger than me, so he will be of use during the rehab process."

"Will that be safe?" his father asks, concern entering his voice.

"I believe it will be, worse case I have to ask Svetlana to assist me and have Dmitri do her tasks." He answers with a shrug. "I think the first few days will be me, Svetlana and Dmitri, because she can help me show Dmitri what needs to happen."

"Let me get the door," his father offers, reaching past him to open it up. "I hope you know what you're doing." The doctor murmurs as he walks past, nodding slightly towards the bed.

He flashes a cocky smile, one he doesn't really feel but he's going to pretend to, and replies, "Information gathering is what I do. I know what the information tells me."

Valentin closes the door behind him, and he walks over to the bed, setting the tray down on the edge of it in order to move the other tray out of the way. He moves the tray to the table before settling on the bed next to the older man and grabbing it so they can eat. Breakfast goes calmly, Alec is quiet and he gets the feeling that his spy wants to say something but he is curious why he isn't.

"Do you have a plan already?" Alec asks after they’re done and he puts all the dishes on the tray.

"Of course," he replies with a shrug. "It's best to always plan ahead." His smile turns playful as he comments, "I'm happy you haven't been trying to stress your limbs before they are healed properly."

His soulmate's blue-green eyes narrow at him.

"Here's the plan," he states, before outlining exactly how the next several days, starting with today, are going to go.

Alec's eyes get narrower as he continues, a combination of frustration and aggravation seeming to pour off the older man. "That's it?" His spy mutters sarcastically when he's done.

"That's it," he agrees.

Some reason he doesn't think this is going to go easily for him.

Oo-O-oO

Alec’s POV  
Wait, what does Jon mean he can't try to go faster than the schedule? How is he to heal quickly if he doesn't push himself? He's in excellent physical condition, despite the fact it's been a few weeks since being injured. Why does he have to do so many exercises? How are they going to fix his broken bones?

He glares at Jon, knowing he's acting childish when he mutters, "That's it?"

"That's it," the younger man agrees with a smile that he can't tell if it's sarcastic or not.

It's not until they fall silent that he realizes the other thing Jon had said. That Dmitri is going to be probably helping with the exercises starting next week. Bad enough whoever this Dmitri is assists at night, now he's going to have to deal with him in person?

The time between breakfast and lunch is quiet, Jon leaves him to his thoughts, hopping on his laptop to continue reading and occasionally typing. He wants to demand the younger man's attention, at the same time he is happy he's getting a little bit of time to think. Twice Svetlana stops by to see if they need more coffee and tea.

A trip to the bathroom just before lunch is practiced and smooth, even if he finds it embarrassing that Jon has to help him with his clothes and clean up. He's adjusted finally, though it is not happy about the situation.

Lunch is just as quiet, which is a curious thing since normally they talk about something, anything.

After lunch however, Jon's attention turns to him after he gets the pain medication out and sets it on the desk.

"Do you have a preference what side you wish to start with?" Jon inquires, settling on the end of his bed by his legs.

He shakes his head, excited that after so long he is going to have the braces off. With the braces on his arms and hands he hasn't been able to undo the ones on his legs. Not that the younger man has actually given him a chance to do so since Jon rarely leaves him alone for more than a few minutes at a time and will have Svete step in if he has to be out for longer. It's annoying. He doesn't like having a babysitter.

"Well, I'll start with your left leg since I noticed that seems to be the side you prefer," Jon states, getting up to shift to the other side of the bed. Once resettled, the dark-haired hacker carefully lifts his leg, setting his foot on the teen's lap before beginning to unwrap it, starting at the top.

He forces himself to stay still as long fingers steadily unwrap his splint with a type of skill that comes from doing so repeatedly.

"Your dad?" he asks, motioning towards the splint.

"Hmmmm? Oh yeah, da had a tendency to injure himself and require splints. Not always breaks, sometime sprains, and the one time a nasty gash that messed up his tendons," the teen replies distractedly, focus on his splint rather than what he's saying.

When the splint comes off, he has to bite back a gasp because he hadn't realized how warm his foot was compared to the air around them. At the same time, the first time that Jon moves his foots slowly up and down, he has to bite back a hiss of pain as it starts tingling at his toes and moves through his foot, up his ankle, and up his leg to his knee.

"Take a deep breath," Jon orders him softly, and he finds himself doing so immediately. "There you go, just keep taking deep breaths. Now I need you to flex your foot up and down slowly."

His fists bunch in the blankets as he moves his foot up and down, it sends sharp pains through his leg. At the same time it feels wonderful.

He takes his time moving his foot as directed until it starts to ache.

"That's enough," Jon tells him, stopping his movement by pressing his hand against his foot. "I'm going to put the brace back on so your ankle can rest."

Gripping the blankets, he nods slowly, "Fine," he hisses.

His muscles feel like they are on fire as the smaller man slips the brace back in place and re-wraps it.

Jon moves to the other side of the bed and repeats the process with his right foot.

When they are done working his ankles and feet, and both are splinted once more, the smaller man asks, "Would you like a pain pill?"

"No," he hisses, closing his eyes and trying to just breathe through it.

"Okay," Jon agrees, moving up the bed to wrap slender arms around him and stroke his hair. "Just relax, it'll be alright," the teen murmurs against the top of his head, making him blink and try to figure out exactly when he had sunk further down the bed. "Try sleeping between now and dinner, it'll help with the pain."

Eyes still shut, he nods, turning his head towards the smaller man and just inhaling that familiar scent. It's comforting, though he doesn't know why. Rest, yes, he needs to rest. Apparently this is going to be harder than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this isn't exact, it is based on ma's therapy after breaking her ankle, my step-dads after breaking his arm, and a kid I went to school with who broke his legs. There was also a lot of research for things that would have been used in the 90s


	22. Relaxing Evening

Alec's POV  
He's surprised to wake up with Jon still asleep, however that doesn't seem to last long because even before he opens his eyes, the teenager is stirring beside him. Why does the teen wake so easily? What would cause a perfectly healthy teen with a mostly happy home life to have the instincts of a spy? Maybe it has something to do with Jon's family?

"Since I know you're awake, how about we get sitting up so we can have dinner since it's probably waiting for us right now." The teen suggests.

He nods in agreement, using his elbows to push himself upwards while Jon makes sure he doesn't overdo it on his wrists.

Once he's in place, Jon gets off the bed to head to the door, he's startled when Jon grabs a cup, but he notices the tray is already gone. It takes him only a moment to recall the fact he nearly woke up a while ago of the sound of soft foot steps. He's slipping if that didn't wake him like it should.

What could he offer someone with their entire future ahead of them? he wonders as he watches the teen moving.

A moment later Jon returns to the spot beside him, a fact he finds intensely pleasing. Not that he expects it to mean anything, because he is sure it doesn't. But for now, well, for now he is the one Jon chooses and that means the world to him.

"Do you feel any better?" the younger man asks, snuggling against him and absently playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Some," he answers roughly, still tired despite the nap.

"That's good, Svetlana will be here shortly with dinner. Valentin has already eaten, as have Svetlana and Gregor." Jon tells him with a small smile.

He nods in understanding.

A soft knock at the door heralds the entrance of the housekeeper after the hacker calls out, "Come in."

He's only a little surprised to see that most of it is foods he prefers.

"Gregor was so happy to hear you are healing, he made your favorites, at least as far as he knows, along with things that are good for building muscles and strength back up," the older woman babbles as she brings the tray over and hands it carefully to Jon. "I'll be back shortly with your drinks, anything in particular you'd like?"

He's half tempted to ask for vodka, but has no idea how Jon would take that, so instead he just shakes his head. He'll let her figure out what sort of drink to bring them.

"Right dearies, I'll be back shortly." she tells them before leaving the room.

Jon just smiles as she bustles about. Once she is gone, the younger man shifts the balance of the plate to the leg closest to him, setting the bigger fork within his grasp.

Even with Svetlana bringing them drinks, dinner goes quickly and quietly, almost as quietly as breakfast, and he wants to ask what that's all about, but he's just too damned tired to right now. However, after the housekeeper has collected all the dishes, he gets a surprise out of the teen.

"Would you like an actual bath rather than a sponge bath tonight?" Jon queries as he gets up, already grabbing a change of clothing for him to wear.

He was rather thankful when he started getting to wear clothes besides his pants and the sheet, that was definitely not how he liked to be. He normally prefers to have the say when he's naked, so being so close to naked without any say at all was a massive problem to him.

"Yes," he nearly hisses in excitement. A real bath would feel wonderful. Only thing, what about his splints?

Jon nods, and grabs the wheelchair, "Alright, so it goes like this: I'll get you in the tub, take the leg splints off so they don't get wet, and then fill the tub with water. You have to keep your arms out of the water no matter how much you might want to dunk them because they're not ready for the splints to be off."

He nods in agreement, excitement strumming through him right up until he realizes exactly how vulnerable he'll be while bathing. What if something happens? Internally shaking his head, he forces those thoughts to the back. Nothing has happened yet, at least not so far as he knows, so why would something happen now just because he's getting a real bath?

"It'll be okay," Jon murmurs in Scottish Gaelic. "No one will bother us."

He wants to believe the teen, but his instincts are screaming that something is going to go wrong.

"Undress in here or the bathroom?" the younger man asks, leaving the choice up to him.

"Bathroom," he answers, scooting closer to the edge of the bed slowly.

"Got it," the hacker replies with a nod, moving so the younger man can shift him from the bed to the chair.

Why is he so nervous? he wonders as they make the short trip across the room. It's not like it's the first time Jon has bathed him. The most embarrassing had been the first time after he woke up, when the smaller man had pinned him to the bed after he accidently attacked Jon, making soothing noises and speaking softly to him until he was calm again.

It's not like this is more intimate. Sponge bathes are _very_ intimate. At least, that's how it had felt every time Jon has bathed him. When the nurse had bathed him years before after Arkhangelsk it hadn't felt nearly as intimate as each time the teen's hands were on him.

He's thankful for the fact he hasn't gotten hard, at the same time he wonders if there is something wrong with him. Though he keeps pushing that to the back of his mind. It is something he will be concerned with after he can walk and use his hands again. He doesn't want to get hard with the fantasies he's been having. James was the only person he was attracted to as a teen. Otherwise he has always preferred his partners to be in their twenties and well aware of their bodies. Even then, only with James had it meant anything, and James has made it clear he isn't wanted any more.

Closing his eyes he takes a few stabling breaths, eyes snapping open as long fingers stroke the sides of his face, gently running over ruined flesh and smooth skin.

"It's okay," Jon murmurs soothingly. "It's no different from a sponge bath, maybe a bit more relaxing, but that's it."

Slowly he nods, eyes narrow as he outwardly agrees even as he thinks that's wrong. It's _far_ more intimate.

Maybe he can show he trusts Jon, at least some, and give the teenager a reason to want him around. That's still his goal. He wants Jon to keep him around. He wants Jon to actually care what happens to him. At this point he has no clue what motivates the younger man. Any time he asks, or even hints at wanting to know, Jon tells him not until he is able to walk. It's one of the reasons he wants to walk again.

When they get in the bathroom, he chuckles at how the smaller man slides over the edge of counter to get to the other side of the chair and toilet.

"Shirt first, then bottoms," Jon tells him, waiting for him to nod before doing just that. The shirt is harder because of how the splints are. The sweats and pants on the other hand come off far easier, the only difficult part is lifting one hip at a time as the young man pulls them down.

Once he is bare with nothing but the splints, Jon glances between him and the tub. Tilting his head, the younger man frowns and eyes narrow as he makes a humming noise.

"This might sting," the teen warns him, shifting to stand between him and the tub after making sure the chair is locked in place.

He grits his teeth through the next few minutes as he goes from chair to toilet to edge of tub to in the tub.

"Just relax for a minute," the smaller man suggests, making sure he has everything laid out.

He doesn't respond, instead he tries to gain control of his breathing, relaxing against the back of the tub with his arms resting on the sides of it. A little bit later, the younger man kneels next to the tub and he realizes Jon's changed his long sleeves for a black t-shirt. Very carefully the hacker removes his splints, though his motions aren't as sure as they had been on the bed.

As soon as the splints are off, he moves his toes and slowly flexes his feet up and down while Jon puts the stopper in and turns the water on.

"How hot do you prefer?" the teen asks as he fiddles with the handles.

"Hot," he answers.

Jon nods, and steam slowly fills the room as hot water fills the tub. It stings at first, but it's the best sort of stinging. Sighing, he sinks into the water, enjoying the way his muscles start to relax. The teen doesn't turn it off until it’s nearly to the top, and he finds himself just about asleep as all the tension is warmed out of him. For a little bit the younger man just lets him relax in the water, sitting next to the tub.

"Preference on soap?" Jon asks, continuing, "I have cedar, blackberry, and scentless."

Normally the younger man uses the scentless one, so he appreciates the offer, though he doesn't know where it comes from. Normally the teen smells like a combination of the two scents.

"Cedar," he answers, deciding against the scentless one.

Nodding, Jon reaches for a bottle on the edge of the sink, snagging it and a flannel. He watches as the teen puts some soap on the flannel before bringing it to his shoulders to start the washing. His breath catches as it lightly touches against his skin.

Jon's hands are gentle as they run the flannel across his skin. If he didn't know better, he'd say affectionate. Only that can't be right. Why would the hacker care? It hasn't been that long since they met and he's been asleep through most of it. Could it be trauma bonding? That bothers him, because he's sure he hasn't been that bad. Yeah he nearly choked the nurse, and once nearly... that train of thought trails off. Maybe it is a trauma bond. Damn it, that's not the type of relationship he wants.

"Alec?" the younger man murmurs, voice questioning. "It's alright. Whatever it is, I promise it's alright."

He closes his eyes for a moment, giving a small shake of his head that elects a soft huff of laughter from Jon.

When he opens his eyes and looks over at the teen, he realizes that his slightly longer than normal hair sprinkled water all over Jon's shirt.

"Stop worrying," the younger man tells him, hazel amber eyes watching him with something warm in their depths. "Whatever is wrong can be dealt with later."

He nods slowly, agreeing because what other choice is there? Jon's not going to tell him why he's doing any of this. Not until he can walk. Now that he is beginning rehab, that is closer than ever but still too far away.

"I'm good at listening," the teen offers softly, surprising him.

Again he nods slowly, actually considering saying something but deciding against it. He won't, can't, until he knows what it is the hacker is keeping to himself.

Carefully, the teen goes back to washing his torso with the flannel. The younger man's hand seem to be more hesitant over the storm cloud, a small frown on concentration curving the his lips. While Jon's hands glide over the rowan, the healthier soulmark, almost as if he has traced it before. Well that's quite possible, he was asleep for several days.

"Lean forward," the teen suggests, as his hands skim along his sides with the flannel.

It takes more effort than he appreciates, but he leans forward, fingers curling tight against the edge of the tub. He's more out of shape than he thought. How annoying. All thoughts of that are brushed away however by the soft touches against his skin. When was the last time someone other than this teen was so careful with him? He can't remember. He was expected to be careful on the occasions he slept with a woman, they never seemed to expect to give that same courtesy. Generally with men it's getting off as quick as possible, kindness and gentleness are not part of the program.

When Jon is done with his torso, the younger man carefully washes the tops of his arms, making sure not to get the splints wet as he does so. The teen then moves on to carefully wash his legs. He watches the way the teen's skin turns pink and Jon worries his bottom lip. It's not like this is the first time the younger man has bathed him, so why is he blushing?

Unless, unless Jon does find it more intimate and is just trying to reassure him? Though why would the teenager try reassuring him? He's not that fragile, at least he is fairly certain he is not that fragile. This is also the first time his entire legs have been available for washing, could that have anything to do with this odd behavior?

He has barely thought that when the teen reaches the top of his knee on the left side. Biting back a gasp, his gaze jerks to where the younger man is slowly washing his legs. His legs have never been as sensitive as they are right now, it's almost more than his nerves can handle and he finds himself reaching towards the hand in the water only to be stopped by a surprising strong grip just above the splint.

"Remember, no getting the splints wet," Jon reminds his gently.

He blinks at the younger man, wondering when he got slow enough for someone to catch him like that.

A playful smile curves the smaller man's lips as he remarks, "Da liked to make sure I could defend myself. You'll find a lot of my odder traits come from him."

"What did your dad do for a living?" he finds himself asking curiously as the younger man lets go of his arm and returns to what he was doing.

"He was a doctor," Jon answers, smiling wistfully. "Actually he held multiple doctorates. Most in medical fields, though he also had one in history. I never understood what drew him to mum and pop."

The teen falls quiet for a minute, carefully moving along his ankle and foot, using the flannel to clean between his toes with a small smile. When the younger man is done with his left leg and foot, he switches to the other leg and moving upwards since he starts at the bottom.

"Those two were marked, pop's mark to Valentin faded before I was ten, but mum's remained. Faded, smaller, but there. It was always warm to the touch, even when she was cold, like there was a fever in it." Again the teen pauses, "This is like that," the younger man's hand ghosts over the storm cloud.

He flinches, his storm . . . James. . . that's not overly surprising. He gets what Jon is saying, about the fact it's not necessarily healthy. That it's like a fever, though he wonders if it's one he can ever be rid of. He doesn't want to be rid of the mark, just the fever. His eyes close as he remembers the better times, the cuddling after sex, the rough housing before sex or when bored, the playing and bantering and all the things that made them them.

"Alec," Jon murmurs, hand hesitantly touching his jaw just below the curve.

Blinking, he tries for a confidant smile but it doesn't really work, he knows that from the younger man's expression.

"Would you like your hair washed?" Jon asks head tilting towards the shampoo and conditioner combo.

He smiles, a real one this time, because he appreciates what the teen is trying to do and nods, "Please."

"I can trim it tomorrow if you'd like, not tonight, I don't have the focus to make it straight." Jon offers, a slightly playful smirk on his face as he remarks, "The more OCD parts of my personality wouldn't allow me to make it messy, so it'd probably end up massively short instead."

Nodding, he agrees, "I prefer shorter hair."

"I remember how long it was when Valentin brought you here, that about the right length?" the teen inquires with a tip of his head, reaching for the two-in-one bottle.

"Yes," he answers.

"Okay, I can do that tomorrow, before we work on the ankle and rotation exercises." Jon tells him as the younger man pulls the stopper, turns the water on, and grabs a cup to fill with the clean water.

Very carefully the younger man washes his hair, soaking it with the cup before rubbing two-in-one into his hair. Long fingers gently massaging his scalp, making him hum appreciatively. Once his hair is well soaped, the teen refills the cup and starts to rinse it out, making sure to keep the suds out of his face.

Jon rinses his hair several times before using the cup to rinse the rest of him off. Once all the soap and suds are gone, the smaller man turns the water off and grabs a few towels out from under the sink. The first towel is thrown over the top of the toilet while a second is put on the back of it.

"It will be easier to dry you off on the toilet," the teen tells him, eyes narrow the way they do when the young man is figuring the answer to a problem.

He nods in agreement.

"Please slide forward two centimeters," Jon requests.

It's awkward, but he manages to do as requested, though it means his feet are flat against the wall of the tub.

He blinks in shock when the younger man slips in the tub behind him, knees bracketing his sides as the teen's arms come around him just beneath his. "I'm going to stand and shift you to the edge of the tub. Step out of the tub and then shift you to the toilet seat." The hacker explains, waiting for him to nod before doing exactly that.

It's smoother than he thinks it will be and within minutes he's on the toilet seat.

Carefully Jon dries him off, starting at his feet and working his way upwards.

When he's dry, the smaller man carefully puts the splints back in place and helps him dress. Getting in the wheelchair goes smoothly, weeks of practice making it simple. Once he is back in bed, it's almost as if exhaustion hits, and he finds himself drifting off to sleep.


	23. First Week of Rehab

Jon's POV  
He's not surprised by how quickly Alec falls sleeps that first night. He can very easily remember his dad doing the same thing when he first started physical therapy.

That first day sets the base pattern for the next week. Each day they add something new to the set of exercises and movements Alec is doing in order to strengthen his legs and prepare him for rebuilding his walking ability.

On the second day he trims his soulmate's hair as promised, chuckling at the very pleased expression on the older man's face when Alec runs his fingers through the shortened sardonyx locks. They add rotating the ankle in small circles to the exercises.

For the third day, his spy gets to spend more time without the splints on, but nothing new is really added.

Leg stretches are added to the fourth day, working muscles that haven't gotten used much since the breaks happened. He get's glared at during the stretching, but hummed at in pleasure when he works the knots out of Alec's muscles with steady hands.

The fifth day is probably the most emotional for his spy because Alec stands on his own for nearly a minute, just absorbing the fact he is standing. When the older man sits down to do his stretches, he just about beams, eyes shimmering brilliant emerald instead of their normal blue-green depths. Of course he has to caution against standing too much too soon, but the joy in his soulmate's face makes it hard from him to say no when the older man wants to do it again.

Day six is quiet, Alec ends up sleeping through most of it, which frustrates the spy to no end when he wakes up.

It's day seven where things really get interesting.

The morning of day seven starts like the six days before. They have breakfast and Alec does his stretches and range of motion exercises. It is after that things become a rollercoaster.

"Svetlana and Dmitri will be assisting in the rehab room," he tells his spy, watching as the older man frowns.

Why is Alec frowning? He can't figure out what he said that could make his soulmate upset. Should he ask? Maybe not, that could be a bad idea, a very bad idea. Particularly since he hasn't answered the 'why' yet.

A moment later expression is gone, and Alec nods calmly.

Dmitri knocks sharply at the door just before lunch time.

With one last glance at his soulmate who's frowning again, actually, he's pretty sure that expression would be called a scowl, he walks over to the door and opens it.

"Hello, sir, errr, Jon." Dmitri greets him nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

"Good morning, Dmitri." he replies with a nod, stepping back in the room, he motions for the toffee blonde to step in. He smiles at how nervous his assistant is. Apparently when he checked Dmitri into a the door, he made his point very clear.

Slowly the toffee blonde steps into the room, looking around slowly and freezing when his eyes settle on Alec.

He has to bite back a chuckle because Dmitri takes a step back, smacking into the door he had closed behind them. Alec is glaring for all he is worth at his assistant, a matching scowl completing the dark look.

"Dmitri, Aleksei," he comments, motioning from one to the other.

"Hello sir," Dmitri stutters, eyes flickering over the bed and the rest of the room but not sticking to Alec.

Oh this is funny. He wonders exactly what his assistant is thinking as he takes in the fact his soulmate is in his bed, particularly since he is not mentioning the fact they are soulmates. He also wonders why the toffee blonde looks so nervous. Tipping his head, he tries to see the spy in the same manner Dmitri does.

Alec says nothing to the toffee blonde, instead his blue-green eyes settle on him, gleaming with emotions he dare not put a name to. There is no way that his spy feels possessive of him, there is no reason for his spy to feel that way. After all, his soulmate is unaware of the fact they are soulmates. At least as far as he knows the spy is unaware of that fact.

"Dmitri is going to be helping when we go to the other room," he tells his soulmate with a reassuring smile. "Since you're bigger than me, I want to make sure that you don't fall, which is where he's going to help."

Still scowling, Alec nods in understanding. "Fine," he just about growls.

Turning to Dmitri, he states, "Svetlana will be down with lunch in a few minutes, why don't you go eat with her and Gregor? I know they would like your company."

"Alright, sir, ummm, Jon," his assistant agrees, hastily opening the door and bolting through it.

Shaking his head, he chuckles as he glances over at his soulmate, that furious expression has already faded. He really doesn't understand the mood swing for his spy. Part of him thinks it's jealousy, but again he still thinks that has to be wrong. Maybe it's the fact he seems weak and from what he knows of his soulmate that is never a welcome feeling.

A soft knock at the door draws his attention and he turns his head to look over at Svetlana standing just inside the door.

"I brought lunch for you two," she announces. Looking at Alec, she continues, "Gregor wishes you the best of luck on your first day attempting walking."

"Thank you," his soulmate replies roughly, voice lower and still edged with anger.

She smiles at his spy, nodding as she looks at him and nods towards the bed.

Taking the hint, he settles into his normal spot beside Alec, accepting the tray when she crosses over to the bed.

"Thanks, Svetlana," he tells her sincerely.

"Just leave the tray on the table outside the door when you're done," she comments before leaving the room.

He presses himself lightly against Alec's side, making sure the tray is easily reached by both of them, and leaving the slightly bigger silverware for his soulmate's use. It's definitely been an emotional few minutes, and he has a feeling that there is definitely going to be more.

Oo-O-oO

Alec's POV  
When Jon tells him that he gets to meet Dmitri, he doesn't like it. For the most part he has had the teen's attention all to himself, and as selfish as it may be, he's been enjoying being someone's sole focus. Sure the younger man works on his computer and does other things as well, but it is only ever them in the room.

So when a taller man with blonde hair, blue-grey eyes, a fairly solid frame and a hesitant smile steps through the door he can't stop himself from glaring at the younger man.

This man is a threat to his goal of winning Jon's affections, he thinks. This stranger in good shape, respectful to Jon, not hard on the eyes. How can he compete with that considering the fact he can't even stand on his own?

He feels momentary relief when Dmitri leaves the room, right up until he remembers that that spineless fool is supposed to help Jon with his rehab. Jon doesn't need help from someone like that. He feels even more relief when the younger man curls against his side, touching from shoulder to hip as they eat lunch. That's a good sign, he thinks, a reassuring sign.

It's not until after lunch that his black mood comes back when there is knock at the door. Svete, who he is not admitting to liking even though he does because she has fire, and Dmitri are standing on the other side. She's her normal cheerful self, not seeming to notice the tension that springs up almost immediately between himself and Dmitri. Jon on the other hand notices as soon as their eyes meet, giving him a very pointed and questioning look.

"If you two want to go down to the rehab room, we will be down shortly." Jon tells the pair, eyes flickering over the two.

Svete nods, taking hold of Dmitri's arm and leading him away.

"Doesn't he need help getting him there?" he hears the assistant ask.

"Oh no, Ivan and Aleksei have this part down." The housekeeper replies with amusement.

"Oh," the blonde mutters.

He doesn't hear if anything more is said from the pair.

"Ready to go start learning to walk again without putting too much pressure on your wrists?" Jon inquires in Scottish Gaelic as he sets the wheelchair up next to the bed, flashing him a warm smile.

He nods once, "Yes." Oh yes, he is definitely ready to walk again.

As soon as he can walk again Jon will tell him why and he can begin wooing the hacker in earnest. If that means he has to deal with that _assistant_ for now, well, he'll deal with him, just because he knows he can prove himself the better choice soon enough.


	24. Retrieval Plan

Pyotr’s POV  
He hadn’t liked the GoldenEye plan and made that clear to his boss, but he had supported his boss because they are friends. When Alec ordered him to stay in their actual base, not the train everyone thinks is the base but the house in Russia with the ladies, he had tried arguing against it but ultimately had agreed because Alec is his boss. At first after they lost contact with the base in Cuba, he hadn’t immediately worried. It’s not uncommon for there to be radio silence while on a mission, it’s not until the reports of the explosion come through and there being no survivors from it that he begins to worry.

To say he panicked would be an understatement.

Of course, Dashenka had knocked him on his arse with a well aimed punch. She then told him in no uncertain terms that she is quite sure Alec survived and he was to stop acting foolish.

Lilya was a bit nicer about her reminder. She was careful about reminding him of all the other occasions since they started working for Alec that their boss has pulled off miraculous stunts and lived through things that should have killed him and would have killed a lesser man. Often times leaving Alec banged up and needing medical attention, but still alive.

That had calmed him down even further. It was an excellent point for her to make and one he needed to be reminded of. Their boss is very hard to kill. Off the top of his head, he can think of at least six different occasions in the past he thought for sure that the injuries his boss had sustained during situations would kill Alec and they hadn’t. Maybe this is the same sort of situation.

So Dashenka had put out some feelers. Speaking with contacts that she has around the world and people within our own network to see if she could find out where Alec ended up. In the end, it comes down to a random contact in Moscow who heard that a doctor who treats many high ranking officials and powerful figures had a mysterious patient that nearly killed his nurse.

He’s startled when he realizes that the rumor is about Doctor Valentin Klimentovich Markov. That’s the same doctor who worked for the general and had originally cared for their boss after Arkhangelsk.

He wanted to immediately go after him, however Lilya suggested that they wait and actually get a plan together before going. After all, they have no idea why the doctor saved their boss or how. They have no idea why their boss hasn’t tried to reach them in the weeks since GoldenEye. They have no idea what happened during that mess. They have no idea what sort of security might be in place or even where within the house their boss is being kept. There are too many variables that could change the outcome of their extraction. So he agrees and they take the time to sit down to discuss a plan of action.

It is decided that Lilya and him will go to the house and find entry in any way possible. They’ll try the front door to begin with, but use other means as needed. Dashenka will use her rifle to watch their backs. Once inside, they will scope the house’s layout and staff out so they can further discuss the extraction of their boss. They are also there to find out what sort of shape their boss is in to determine whether he will be able to assist in his extraction or not.

Who knows what sort of pain and abuse Alec has suffered at the hands of that doctor? He doesn’t trust anyone who used to work for the general. That man was a power hungry sadist and many of his employees are like him.

The day before they are to pay the doctor a visit, they discuss the plan again, making sure all the details are worked out. They want this to go as smooth as possible so they can get Alec home safe and sound. Or as safe and sound as they possibly can. As it is, Lilya will probably have her work cut out for her.

As they walk up to the front door to Doctor Markov’s home and office, he prepares himself for whatever they might find. He’ll do whatever he must to get his boss back. He feels guilty and as if he made a massive mistake by not trying harder to stop the GoldenEye plot since it made him so uneasy. His only hope is Alec can still be saved and hasn’t been permanently harmed by whatever happened to put his boss in that doctor's hands.


	25. Bogdan and Raskova

Jon’s POV  
He watches with a combination of pleasure and trepidation as Alec works on walking using the parallel bars. He’s already promised Valentin that the equipment is staying in the small room he commandeered to make into an exercise and rehab room for the stubborn agent.

Yesterday Alec had made a comment about wanting to check in with his team, and it had taken him longer than he would like to admit that the agent was referring to the three people who seem to be closest to Janus. Well then, he will just have to track them down so that he can give them a call and invite them to dinner, whether he wants to or not. Personally he would rather wait until his spy is on his feet, but he is well aware of how impatient Alec is after the last five weeks with the older man being awake and all the times Alec nearly hurt himself.

At least it’s week seven, nearly week eight, for the recovery period. This would be a really bad idea any sooner. As it is, he has to keep a really close eye on his soulmate to make sure the older man doesn’t over do it, or that he is there to catch Alec when he does.

“Ivan?” Svetlana comments as she slips in the room, drawing his attention.

Turning towards her, he arches an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“There are two people at the door, both demanding to speak with Doctor Markov, but he’s not here right now.” She answers, something in her tone saying that they are making her nervous. “Dima is blocking the door right now.”

“Keep an eye on him, I’ll go see who it is.” He replies as he stands, stretching for a moment before calling over to his soulmate, “Don’t rush yourself and I’ll be right back, Svetlana will be here.”

He gets glared at by those sharp turquoise eyes as the older man looks over at him.

Leaving the room, he quickly walks down the short hall to the door where Dmitri is standing stubbornly, holding the door in place and putting all his weight into making sure that the door stays that way.

“Who is it?” he inquires of his PA of an assortment.

“A couple demanding to speak with Doctor Markov,” the older man answers, “They’re not taking the hint to leave.”

“Here, I’ll talk with them,” he comments, reaching for the door.

“Are you sure?” Dmitri queries with concern.

“Of course, go see if Svetlana needs a hand please,” he answers with a smile when the older man glances in his direction.

He can tell that Dmitri doesn’t want to listen as the toffee-blonde slowly steps away.

Opening the door, he cocks his head to the side, studying the pair. They’re familiar, he thinks, his mind quickly running through all the information he has on Alec and his staff. That’s it.

“Pyotr Vasilievich Bogdan and Liliya Stepanova Raskova, I’m guessing,” he murmurs under his breath in English, a bit louder and in Russian, he comments, “Well this saves me the time of having to look you up.” Of course he is still going to look them up. “You can wait in there,” he motions to the front living room, “Svetlana or Dmitri will show you back in a few minutes. You will give me until one of them comes for you. Believe me when I say I can find out everything I need to in order to make your life hell if you don’t.”

Of the two, she looks a lot less stubborn, and is the one to convince Bogdan to comply though there is hesitation and something else in those hazel eyes that follow him from the room.

Heading to the work out rehab room, he stops by the door to watch the way Alec’s muscles ripple as he moves. He waits until the older man has finished the set he is on before announcing, “You have company, I would prefer we relocate to the bedroom so you can sit down as you speak with them since I am sure this will not be fast.”

“You figured out who it is?” Svetlana asks in shock.

He nods, “Yep, they’re not actually here for Valentin, only to confirm who Valentin brought home with him nine weeks ago.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Alec start to tense up and quickly pivots to cross the space to his soulmate’s side. If the older man starts to go down, he wants to be able to catch him.

“Dmitri, go make sure they stay in the front room until called for,” he directs his assistant before requesting, “Svetlana please make tea for five, and some biscuits if you have them.”

She nods at him, a small frown of concentration on her face, “I’ll have it ready as soon as you need it,” she promises, bustling off with a determined expression.

Dmitri looks a bit more hesitant, the older man disliking leaving him alone with Alec after hearing about what happened to Masha. Not that it matters, the PA still does as told after staying only a second longer than necessary.

“He’s protective of you,” Alec mutters as he grabs the wheelchair for the agent to sit in.

Shrugging, he replies, “I can probably do more damage than he can, but it’s not something I plan on telling him any time soon. No reason to ruin the thought that teenage me can only act on adrenaline like the time I bashed him into the door for a stupid assumption.”

Once Alec is settled in the seat, he carefully takes the older man back to their currently shared room, eyes flicking down the hall to see Dmitri standing in the way of the door, glaring at the two inside the room. He’s not planning on asking why his assistant is glaring, he’s quite sure he can figure it out easily.

When they get to his room, he lets the agent do most of the work getting on the bed, acting more as a balancing beam then the active power behind the move. Over the last few weeks they have managed to find a rhythm, he reads body language to see how much help the spy will accept and does it. On bad days, or when the pain is to the point where Alec is considering accepting the pain medication he keeps in the drawer, he does most the work, putting his ability to figure numbers to his advantage to know what sort of equation he will need to pull whatever stunt is needed. On good days, or days where his soulmate’s impatient nature comes to the surface, he’s there more as support, particularly now that Valentin cleared Alec to start rehab.

As soon as his agent is settled in the bed, he makes sure that he is comfortable, thankfully clothes had become a doable thing again about the time Alec stopped panicking whenever he stepped out or needed help. It only took six of the seven weeks the agent was awake, but he’s not paying attention to that fact right now.

Absently he brushes the sardonyx hair lightly, “Ready for company we discussed yesterday?”

Alec’s eyes narrow for a moment before widening ever so slightly, “Yes.”

“Well then, I’ll ask Dmitri to let the two that are here out of the front room since he is currently acting like a pit-bull guarding them,” he remarks in English, a slight twitch to his lips.

His spy’s lips twitch in response, but Alec doesn’t actually smile. That’s alright, he still got a reaction.

Another thing he has noticed with his spy, sometimes the older man is almost open, gentle and affectionate. Other times there is a wall fifty meters thick and a hundred tall between them even when they are right next to each other. He’s quite sure that it goes with all the trauma that has been dealt Alec’s way over the years. This most recent brush with death, and at the hands of the third member of their triad at that, is probably being a big reason for the fluctuation in behavior.

Crossing the room, he pauses by the door to remark, “Grabbing my laptop and having Dmitri bring your guests in.”

Again Alec grows tense but nods, and he just wants to crawl on the bed next to the tall man to cuddle with him. However he is quite sure that his agent would not appreciate being cuddled in front of employees, even if those employees seem to be the closest thing to a friend his soulmate now has.

Giving a small shake of his head, he heads into the hall, whistling once to catch Dmitri’s attention before motioning to his door with a nod to follow. As soon as the toffee-blonde nods in his direction he heads to the rehab room to collect his laptop from the table he set up on in there.

Despite the fact he had already given Dmitri the go ahead to bring the pair to his room, his assistant still waits for him to be back in it before doing so. He appreciates that fact as it allows him to set his laptop back up on the desk and duck into the bathroom, to wash his face off.

He steps back into the bedroom proper as there is a light knock at the door.

“Open,” he answers in English, not thinking about it. Thankfully, Dmitri is picking up the language relatively quickly, or at least parts of it, because he doesn’t always remember to use Russian.

Settling at his desk, he watches as the door opens and his assistant brings the two in, glaring the entire time at them.

Bogdan just about glares back, barely seeming to bite back something as the toffee-blonde finally moves out of the way.

“Thank you,” he tells his assistant with a smile, “Can you check with Svetlana?”

“Of course,” the toffee-blonde answers with a nod and one last dirty look towards the guests before slipping from the room.

“Don’t mind Dmitri,” he comments with a tilt of his head as he studies the pair who are staring at Alec. “He’s very good at doing as asked, and one of the things he was originally asked to do was make sure we’re not bothered.”

“You’re alive, Boss,” Bogdan states, pleasure and shock in his voice.

“Yes,” Alec answers with a slight nod, “I’m alive.”

Standing, he comments, “I’m going to wait for tea in the hall, when it gets here I’ll be back in.” His eyes narrow on the woman, “Do not touch the splints on his wrist, I’ve had a hell of a time keeping him from doing further damage to both.”

Bogdan is taller than him, taller than Alec too, and glares at him with steel grey eyes, nearly hissing, “What did you say?”

He steps directly in front of the bigger man, eyes catching where the weapons are hidden so he can lift them if he needs to, and answers, “I said leave the splint on his wrist alone. I know my Russian is clear enough to be understood, though I can repeat it in English if you’d prefer, but if we go that route I’m going to be a lot ruder.”

“I just want to-“ the woman begins, trying to keep the peace apparently.

He barely turns his head, stating quite clearly, “No.”

When Bogdan hands come up as if he is going for one of his weapons, his hands shoot out and he lifts the two guns and knife within easy reach before stepping back and glaring. “Listen to me very closely, I know why you are here. I can easily find out every bit of information about your life, including the things you don’t want anyone knowing. Ever attempt something threatening like that again and I will put you through my window without turning the electricity off first.”

He sets the two guns down, and the knife he plays with while the Alec, Bogdan, and Raskova stare at him.

“I am now stepping out of the room for the moment, do not give me a reason to toss you through the window when I get back.” He hisses, eyes flashing in anger as he side steps the tallest man in the room and slips through the door.

“Who the hell is that, Boss?” the second asks as he closes the door behind him.

Closing his eyes, he leans against it for a few minutes, just trying to catch his breath. What if Alec wants to leave now? He wonders, what if Alec leaves and never comes back? That’s not happening, not if Alec wants answers. Answers are here, not elsewhere.

“Ivan?” Svetlana asks softly as she approaches, “Everything alright?”

Straightening, he smiles at her warmly, taking the tray and answering, “Of course, my room is just a bit crowded right now. Thank you.”

She seems to not believe him but nods slowly, “I’ll be working downstairs for a while in case you need anything.”

He chuckles softly, understanding that it is more of if he needs help getting rid of the unrequested guests, “Find something for Dmitri please, I’m going to be working on my laptop and acting like a bloody bird for a bit.”

“Of course,” she answers with another nod, “You need anything-“

Before she has a chance to finish that statement he waves it off, “I know, thank you, only be concerned if you hear shattering glass.”

Frowning in worry, she twists the door handle for him before walking away. Quietly he slips back in, trying not to listen too much to the conversation. Right now it seems to be focused on how badly Alec had been broken when he first arrived fifty-four days earlier. Apparently they have a hard time believing the damage was all that bad, which makes him want to snarl, instead he sets the tray down and makes Alec a cup, which he carefully sets on the table within easy reach of the agent’s less injured hand. He’ll help if Alec will let him, but he doesn’t think that his soulmate will let him help. He doesn’t bother offering the other two drinks. They can make their own if they want. He retreats to his laptop to look up dirt on them. He’ll be damned if someone is going to try intimidating him in his own room.

Powering up his laptop, he gets to work looking into first Bogdan who seems the more annoying of the pair. His hands fly as he goes through every minute of the older man’s life that he can find, tracking down every detail and bit of information. He also puts out a request to a few groups of hackers he occasionally works with, asking for any intel they can get him as well. Almost all of them agree and he knows by tomorrow he will probably have far more on Pyotr Vasilievich Bogdan than the other man will be comfortable with. That’s fine. He’ll act like he is dealing with a spy and use the information as leverage.

He is just about to start into looking up information on Lidiya Stepanova Raskova when Bogdan makes the comment, “We’ll get you out of here as soon as possible Boss, who knows how much worse things were-“

The tallest man in the room falls silent as he slams his laptop shut, out of patience with these two.

“I’ll grab the x-rays,” he states quietly, just barely keeping himself from snarling.

The three of them just stare at him, watching as he stalks out of the room. He is back less than five minutes later, bringing with him the x-ray films and a high powered flashlight to make reading them easier. So far he has refrained from showing this to Alec, but he doesn’t feel like spending another two hours listening to two people who were not here make judgment calls on what was or wasn’t done right.

He sets them on top of his laptop as he walks over to the bookshelf and steps onto the bottom shelf so he can reach the small projection screen he has on the top to pull down. After that he uses a few strips of tape to hold them in place as he puts them in body order before closing the curtains and flipping the flashlight on.

Is he being a bit dramatic? Probably. Does he care? No. Not one bit right now.

“Now look over here,” he nearly snaps. “Take a good hard look at these and then open your mouth.”

Alec’s eyes never leave him as he stalks through his room, bypassing the rest of them with quiet fury. He can feel how Bogdan wants to attack, or something else of that nature and doesn’t know what’s stopping the tall man from trying, but he’ll be damned if he presents as afraid or intimidated.

People who use fear to get results are used to being stabbed in the back, he hears his dad state, be calm because it throws them off.

Taking a deep breath, he watches as Raskova moves closer, eyes widening as she looks at each of the x-rays. He only hung the originals, not the ones taken three days ago showing the beginning of the bone setting.

“My god,” Raskova mumbles, glancing at him and asking, “These were right after?”

“Before we started fixing things,” he answers, “We had to know what we were working with first.”

“I’m sorry,” she states, “I had no idea.”

He has to bite back a snort, of course she had no idea, she assumed. They just assumed, didn’t ask.

“Do you have updated ones?” she asks politely, glancing at him with still wide eyes. He’s sure that expression is used to get what she wants most the time, but that’s not why he’ll show them.

“Yeah,” he mutters as he trades them out, carefully putting them away before hanging the second set from three days ago up.

There is a big difference. While the breaks are still obvious, the remodeling can be seen. As can the small carefully installed screws in the wrist Alec keeps trying to use too much.

She takes her time studying this set, looking at exactly how carefully each of the bones was put back in its proper place, and able to see some of the strain put on the breaks by his stubborn agent not wanting to take care of himself or let his damned bones heal.

He’s just happy that the wrist wasn’t actually made worse by all the times Alec did something to it, like trying to choke Masha, grabbing his throat, that time he was going to throttle Dmitri if Dmitri didn’t say where he was at, trying to get up before physically ready. Yeah, he’s just happy it’s not worse.

“Doctor Markov did a remarkable job,” the female doctor eventually states, “Who helped?”

“I did,” he answers with a shrug, “In more ways than you would probably guess.”

She turns to face him, studying him closely with a speculative glaze. “You have medical training?”

Shaking his head, he carefully takes each of of the x-rays down, tucking them back into the folders as he explains, “Da was a doctor, I sometimes helped. Valentin is a doctor, who asked for help. I catch on fast in a situation where I need to.”

“Do you plan to do any training in the field?” she asks, still watching him speculatively.

“No.” He answers shortly, “What I know, I know as a way to be useful and make sure he doesn’t further injure himself.”

She nods, eyes widening even further as if she had an epiphany, “Of course.”

Turning back to Alec she comments, “He’s the one who patched you up after the burns right? So he knows how stubborn you can be, no wonder you were kept out for so long going by the damage in those x-rays it was probably best.”

Quietly he leaves the room with the two sets of x-rays to return them to the office space they belong in. He stops just outside his bedroom door, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to calm his emotions once more. He’s still furious for the assumption that they kept Alec out because they did something wrong, particularly when with the amount of damage that was done to the older man that could have been very dangerous.

He doesn’t want them stressing Alec out, or wearing the agent out too much, so he forces himself to open the door, slipping in just as quietly as he left in order to settle back into his seat. Opening his laptop back up, he returns to what he is doing, it is easier to ignore them now that they are not being as loud or belligerent about exactly how badly Alec had been hurt.

During the remainder of their visit, he looks into the two women, taking his time learning everything he can about them. There is only a small part of his mind that is surprised when he discovers that the other woman is a sniper and spy as well. It stands to reason one spy would be more comfortable working for another than for one who has no understanding of it at all.

Only occasionally does he glance over to check on his soulmate, keeping it to more of a flicker than an outright look. Mostly he tries to give the older man privacy.

He’s almost thankful when Raskova announces they need to get going but promises to be back soon. She even tells the spy to behave himself. He’s a bit startled when she turns his direction and states quite clearly, “Thank you for taking care of him.”

He nods once, not saying anything and opening his bedroom door so they can leave.

Closing the door and leaning his back against it, he meets stormy green-blue eyes and knows he is probably going to be bombard with questions. Only Alec looks exhausted, so maybe he can talk his soulmate into asking those questions later and resting for now.


	26. Broken Bones and Friends

Alec's POV  
He's surprised by Jon's passive aggressiveness towards Bogdan and Raskova. It's not something he has seen previously in the normally direct hacker when dealing with people. Yet the teen was definitely being passive aggressive and most of it seemed to be aimed at Pyotr rather than Lidiya. There’s something going on there, he's just not sure what. Particularly since Jon is the one who wanted him to get in touch with them in the first place. So why is the hacker acting that way when they show up without being called? Could it be because Jon didn't have a warning they were coming? From what he can tell, the hacker is not fond of surprises.

Is the hacker jealous? No. Why would Jon be jealous? As far as he knows the younger man doesn't think of him as anything more than a patient. Maybe a friend, if he's pushing it. Maybe that would explain the passive aggressiveness.

Although, most of it started after the two started asking about his care and recovery. Jon had bristled at the implications that Valentin and him hadn't been caring for him adequately. Immediately disproving that idea with the x-rays.

The x-rays, now that was quite a revelation.

He knew the breaks were bad. That was evident in the fact he has splints on all of his limbs and Jon's insistence that he doesn't put stress on them. He just hadn't realized how bad until the hacker showed them the x-rays. Considering the broken ribs, legs and arms, he's surprised he is alive. It explains why he is healing so much slower than he is used to. It also explains why his entire body has been aching since he woke up from the medical coma that Valentin put him in. It also explains why he was in that coma, the doctor knew him from Arkhangelsk, and knew he'd not give himself time to heal. Keeping him asleep would allow his body the highest chance to recover without him making it worse.

Since he woke up, Jon has been his primary caregiver. Almost possessively so. Even though he had attacked the younger man twice, Jon never showed any signs of fear, unlike the nurse who refused to come back following his nearly strangling her. Not that he minds the fact the nurse didn't come back, he prefers Jon's company.

He was surprised when he started the physical therapy. He had expected Valentin to hire a therapist, so when he discovered it was going to be Jon in control of it, he had been shocked by how relieved he felt. That is, right up until the point he discovered that the younger man's assistant was going to be helping as well. That bothers him a lot. He can't stand Dmitri. So far the blonde hasn't done anything to warrant his dislike, but he down right hates him.

Of course, part of that is the fact he sees Dmitri as a threat to his budding and hopefully growing relationship with Jon. Dmitri is not worthy of the dark haired genius. Neither is he if he's being honest, but that's not going to stop him from wanting and trying to gain Jon's affections. He's sure they aren't soulmates, but from what the hacker has said, he knows of relationships where non-soulmates get together and are successful together. All he needs to do is convince Jon it would work for them too.

During their visit, Lilya had smiled at him knowingly, eyes darting between him and the teenager. When Jon had ducked out of the room, she had asked, "Do you know what you're doing with him?"

"Winning him over," he replied immediately.

"As a conquest or something long term?" she retorted, "I don't know him, but you're both possessive according to the way he's hovering and you’re watching him. I don't think as a conquest is going to work."

"He's not a conquest," he snapped, glaring at the way her expression changes from knowing to satisfied.

That had been the end of that conversation because Jon had returned, bringing with him the x-rays of exactly how bad he had been broken.

Lilya's expression had turned horrified when she looked at the x-rays and she immediately stopped trying to check the broken bones. Instead she had gotten really nice and started asking Jon about the breaks and care given.

Pyotr had watched it all with distrust in his eyes, the rest of his expression almost blank.

When Jon had left the room to put the x-rays away, his second had commented, "He's very protective," there is shock in his friend's voice.

He can remember smiling, just the barest curve of his lips.

"You like him," Pyotr muttered in shocked disbelief, making him wonder if his friend had ignored the conversation with Raskova.

"Yes," is all he had said, the door opening a minute later and the teen slipping back in.

Jon had acted like he wasn't there once the topic of his injuries was dropped. Instead the teen worked on his laptop and tried to give them privacy, which he had appreciated.

Pyotr had filled him in on how the remains of the Janus syndicate was doing, and had informed him all his money in the banks had vanished before the government had attempted to freeze and claim his accounts.

His eyes had danced over the teen, amusement filling him. He's quite sure that Jon is the one who did that. Why he doesn't know.

The rest of the visit had been nice, but it left him exhausted. After Jon showed them out, the teen had leaned against the closed door to their bedroom as if he was exhausted too. So he had muttered, "Come lay down," not actually expecting the hacker to do so.

Nodding once slowly, Jon had crossed the room and laid down. The hacker’s body curled along his side, and he had carefully wrapped his arm around the smaller man. Hope blossomed in his mind. Jon comes to him willingly, cuddles with him, takes care of him. All signs that the younger man cares about him. Maybe the teen was jealous earlier, though he doesn't know why. There are plenty of questions to ask, just not right now. Right now he's going to fall asleep whether he wants to or not. He can have patience. He has to have patience. It’s the only way to get what he wants.


	27. Through the Window Visitor

Alec's POV  
It's three days after Pyotr and Lilya's visit that he realizes how amusing it is that they showed up when the did. The day before they had showed up, he had told Jon it was time to tell them he is alive. Then they were there without him having had a chance to make a call. Pyotr had explained they thought him dead originally, which is why it took so long for them to track him down. The only one who has yet to visit with him is Dayesi. Knowing her, that will be fixed very soon.

So when there is a disturbance at the front of the house and Jon goes to see what's going on, he can barely contain his mirth when the window opens and she slides in. Amusingly enough, wearing rubber gloves to avoid having problems because of the electricity wired in.

"Petya is worried you’re being drugged," she comments in Cuban Spanish quietly.

He doesn't bother holding in his chuckle at that, giving a small shake of his head and replying in the same language, "I'm not drugged. I think Jon would be offended by that suggestion, while Valentin probably thinks it's a good idea."

She walks over to the bed, settling on the edge and asking seriously, "Should I stop him from mounting a rescue attempt?"

"Yes," he answers, the hints of a smile playing at the edge of his lips now that he's done chuckling. "I don't need to be rescued. Getting rescued at this point would probably cause more problems than not. Particularly since I am trying to convince Jon that I'm a good catch even though I'm currently a bit broken."

It's her turn to chuckle as she tells him, "That's what my Lilya said, along with the fact it seems to be mutual."

His eyes narrow as he considers that, so it’s mutual? He wants it to be, but has doubts because of the secrets he knows Jon is keeping. He can't be sure that it's mutual until the big question of why is answered. That's not getting answered any time soon. Yes, he has started physical therapy and rehab, but it's going to take time.

"We'll see," he replies with a shrug. "Nice gloves," his states smirking.

Rolling her eyes, she retorts, "Petya mentioned that Jon," she puts stress on his name, "had wired the window, better safe than sorry."

"Probably a good idea," he remarks, "I don't know how strong of a current it has."

Tipping her head, she queries, "Do you know why he has electricity connected to his window?"

"Suggestion from his dad," he answers. "Well. I think that's why."

She nods, then sweetly asks, "Do you want me to bring you anything?" her tone turns sassy as she queries, "Like your own clothing?"

Chuckling, he answers, "I don't think I'd fit most my own clothes right now. Besides I think that Jon sent his assistant to the store for these." He just about sneers the word assistant.

Her eyes widen as she murmurs, "You're jealous! This is too rich. I didn't think you knew how to be jealous like that."

Frowning, he asks, "Why wouldn't I?"

"In all the years I've known you, including the years we were occasional lovers, you never showed any signs of getting jealous." she answers with a shrug, cocking her head to the side and freezing for a moment. "I think it's time for me to go."

Glancing between her and the door, he nods, mildly suggesting, "Try the front door next time. You can stay longer."

She chuckles, leaving the way she came in, and carefully closing the window behind her.

He just shakes his head, softly laughing because that is such a Dayesi thing to do.

Less than a minute later Jon comes back in, Dmitri not far behind. They are discussing the two men who had caused the disturbance that called Jon away. Eventually, the teenager dismisses his PA, telling him to go home early and spend some time with his family.

Family? What sort of family? Dmitri doesn't wear bonding rings, so he doesn't think that it's that sort. Except maybe it is. From what he has gathered, prior to working for Jon the blonde was poor, maybe he couldn't afford bonding rings. If the blonde is bonded then he's not actually a threat to his claim to Jon.

As soon as the door is closed, the hacker turns to him, smiling as he leans against the door and dryly stating, "Tell your fellow agent to come in the front door next time."

Laughter bubbles up, making him shake his head and grin. "How'd you know?"

Motioning to the window, "The wire on the top of the window is no longer straight."

Glancing over, he looks for the wire, and it takes running his eyes over the frame twice before he actually spots it. It's coloring is the same as the window frame, making it hard to see and if he hadn't been looking for it, he wouldn't have seen it. That's probably why she didn't see it. Though the positioning of it makes him think that it wouldn't be able to adjust as she was going out. That's a good insurance position for it.

"Did you have a good visit?" Jon asks as he straightens and moves away from the door.

He nods, looking over at the younger man, "I did. Told her to use the door next time," he smiles, "didn't think you'd notice she came in."

Chuckling, the hacker replies, "This is my room, I make sure to know if someone has been in it besides me."

"Advice from your dad?" He queries, that seems to be where most of Jon's odd habits from.

Snickering, the younger man replies, "Nope. Teenager and hacker."

Again he laughs, because that's a good point.

"Svetlana will bring us dinner in a bit," Jon tells him as he sits on the edge of the bed. Curiously, the teen asks, "You only have the three that I should expect to show up?"

The amusement drains out of him. Jon's right, these three are the only ones who would care. The one he wishes would care tried killing him, and as far as James knows, he's dead. "Yeah," he answers, even to his own ears his voice sounds hollow.

Immediately the teen scoots closer, giving him a hug and murmuring comfortingly.

"If it makes you feel any better, the only person who'd notice if I vanished is my hacker friend Aither," Jon comments, then remarks, "Possibly the solicitor and my assistants, but only because I pay them to notice."

He freezes, glancing down at the smaller man with a frown. At least he has the three that he knows he can count on to remember him. It's hard to believe that Jon doesn't have more people who'd care, but it was said with complete sincerity. There really isn't anyone for the teen. From everything the younger man has said, he's not joking.

Slowly he wraps an arm around the hacker's shoulders, quietly stating, "I'd notice."

The hints of a smile play at the edge of the younger man's lips.

They stay like that, pressed together from ankle to shoulder, the smaller man leaning on him instead of him leaning on Jon until Svete brings them dinner.


	28. A Conversation and A Vist

Jon's POV  
Two days after the visit from the third member of Alec's team, he is chatting with Aither while Alec takes a nap when Svetlana comes to get him. She has a concerned look on her face as she slips into the room quietly, commenting, "Ivan, you have company in the front living room who wish to speak with you alone."

Startled, because who the hell would want to speak with him alone, he stands up, glancing over at Alec who woke from his nap when she came in, "Will you be all right for a few minutes?"

The spy nods, answering smoothly, "Of course."

Standing, he makes sure his shirt is tucked in before leaving the room, the housekeeper not far behind him.

"You can return to what you were doing." He tells the older woman, "If you could get him some fresh coffee, I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

"Of course," she immediately agrees, "I'll make to use one of the mugs with big handles."

"Thanks," he tells her as she turns towards the kitchen and he heads to the front living room.

When he gets to the door, he stops and takes a calming breath, squaring his shoulders and lifting his head. He doesn't know who's waiting for him, but he has an idea that it might be Alec's team wishing to talk to him alone. Now's a time when he wishes he could fight like Aither rather than the simple self defense he was taught. It would make him feel better. Instead he can bluff his way through whatever situation he's going to find himself in.

Stepping into the living room, he's surprised to see Lidiya, Pyotr, and who he is assuming is Dayesi sitting down.

His eyes narrow before they realize he is there, or at least show any signs of realizing he is there since he knows that the smallest of the three is a trained agent a lot like Alec. He's sure she at least has noticed his entrance.

"What can I do for you?" he inquires calmly.

Bogdan stands, while the two women stay seated.

It's the agent in the trio that answers, "We wished to speak to you about Aleksei."

So that's the game they're playing, he thinks, ten to one odds they know his name is actually Alec.

"Oh?" he replies calmly.

"Yes," she states, "These two filled me in on how he was brought here to begin with and the shape he was in originally."

"Yeah, you didn't really have a lot of time to talk to him when you came through my window." He retorts sarcastically.

She blinks at him, surprise flashing across the spy's face.

"Good try making it look like you didn't use my window for an entrance, but you missed the alert for me," he remarks.

He walks into the room, crossing to the chair closest to the fireplace and throwing himself into it. He's seventeen, occasionally it's handy to act his age, like now, because they have no clue what to expect from him. "Well?" He queries switching to English.

Of the three the doctor is the only one who doesn't seem too surprised by this action.

"You know his real name don't you," Lidiya comments, a smile playing at the edge of her lips.

He just smirks at her, not answering. I know all about all four of you, he thinks, probably more than you would be comfortable with me knowing.

"How long will he need to remain here?" Dayesi asks, tone curious rather than judgmental, watching him with narrow eyes.

"He can leave when he wants, but if he does so he will need to have someone doing intense physical therapy with him." he replies calmly. "Right now he can't walk and there is no using his hands at all because of the breaks."

Lidiya nods seriously, murmuring, "They were extensive. Even if the remodeling is looking far better than expected at ten weeks I can understand that."

Dayesi tilts her head sideways studying him with narrow eyes. "Who's doing his physical therapy now?" the agent inquires.

"I am," he answers calmly, tipping his head to the side, and shifting how he is sitting so he has a leg thrown over the arm of the chair.

"Why?" Pyotr demands, the first thing he has said so far, and acting like he is trying to be intimidating.

Seriously? He thinks, going to take that tone? Not smart, Pyotr, not smart at all. I was expecting better. Far better.

"What he means to ask is why are you the one doing so rather than someone else?" Dayesi queries smoothly, shooting the male in their group a quick look that speaks volumes and promises they will be discussing it later.

"Because I can," he retorts, smiling charmingly.

The women share a glance that is an entire conversation.

Those two are closer than just coworkers. Definitely friends, possibly lovers, he thinks. Well that explains the lack of men in Lidiya's history, and makes Dayesi bisexual because he knows she has had male targets. At least if those records he found are accurate and he doesn't have a lot of faith in the KGB records. While they are really good at paperwork, that paperwork is not always accurate. Some is intentionally falsified in order to make them look better or hide things.

"That's a good reason," the agent agrees.

"Considering you helped with surgeries, it's understandable," the doctor comments with a slight nod. "Is the fact you helped set the bones part of your reasoning?"

"Nope," he replies, popping the 'p' sound. "My reasons are my own. For everything I do."

Again the women share a conversation in a glance.

Pyotr Bogdan just glares at him, anger and distrust evident in his gaze.

Rolling his shoulders a bit, he pops them before his attention turns back to the trio. "Anything else?"

"May we visit with him for a bit?" the doctor inquires politely.

He glances at the clock on the wall, noting it's only been five minutes since he stood up from his desk and walked down here. It feels like it has been even longer.

"Of course," he answers, "But there is no stressing him allowed."

"Understandable, we can agree to that," Dayesi remarks nodding sharply once.

"In that case, I'll go get him and have Svetlana bring some tea and small bites." He comments, rising from his seat smoothly. "By the by, stop trying to act intimidating Bogdan, it's failing."

Lidiya smothers a laugh with her hand, eyes crinkling in mirth.

Dayesi is not as polite and laughs at the comment. 

Pyotr just glares at him.

Leaving the living room, he heads towards his room, spotting Svetlana as he does so coming with coffee for Alec. "I'll take that," he murmurs, "Could you bring a pot of Earl Grey and small bites to the front living room, enough for four people please."

She hands him the coffee, nodding and smiling, as she turns to go back to the kitchen.

He wrinkles his nose at the scent but shrugs, opening the bedroom door and stepping in. "Your three are in the living room. They would like a visit if you feel up to it." He comments, setting the coffee on the nightstand closest to the door.

Alec stretches in bed, drawing his eyes to the way his body moves before his attention returns to the older man's face, blue-green eyes are watching him with amusement though he just smiles in response.

"I can have them come in here if you'd prefer?" he offers, not really liking that idea but accepting it if his soulmate would rather it.

"No," his spy replies, "The living room is better."

Carefully, Alec sits up and reaches for the mug in order to take a drink of the coffee, just about sighing in pleasure as he puts it aside. He just continues to smile at that reaction.

"How long did I sleep this time?" there is something resigned and frustrated in his soulmate's tone.

"Just a little over an hour, which isn't bad," he responds, grabbing the wheelchair and bringing it over. Yes, Alec's been making progress walking, but he is nowhere near able to walk without support.

The older man nods, muttering, "Yeah."

"You want to do most the work or want me to?" he asks, deciding he might as well.

A scowl is the answer he gets. Well then, he's doing most of the work and Alec isn't happy about it. So his spy must still be tired. That's understandable, it's not like Alec's been giving himself a lot of recovery time. He's just happy that the older man's body isn't rebelling more. Actually, now that the other three are aware he is here, maybe he can enlist them to help with the rehab and therapy. Hmmmm. Something to think about. The doctor at least should be willing to do so.

Carefully, he helps Alec move from the bed to the chair, passing the spy the coffee to hold so he can move them, and leaving the room. He'll close the door here in a minute.

He's startled when he spots Dmitri just outside his room, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. "Pretty sure I gave you today off." He comments curiously.

"Tomorrow," the toffee blonde responds, "and the day after."

He just nods, because he doesn't always keep track of the days. There is a reason he keeps a calendar on his laptop that notifies him of events and topics. "Close the door, if you would," he remarks, pushing Alec the rest of the way out and heading to the other room.

He hears the soft click of the door before his assistant falls in step with him.

"Isn't the rehab room in the other direction?" Dmitri queries.

"If that's where we are going, you'd be correct," he replies dryly.

He doesn't have to see his soulmates expression to know the spy is rolling his eyes. It's there in the very subtle shake of the head and barely audible sigh.

"Get the living room door," he requests.

"Yes sir," the toffee blonde agrees, moving ahead to make sure the door is open and darting out of his way.

Entering the living room, he heads over to his chair before murmuring softly enough for Alec to hear him only, "Chair or wheelchair?"

"Chair," the older man mutters just as quietly.

He nods, shifting to stand in front of Alec so he can help with balance. He takes the coffee and sets it aside. This is one thing that the older man can do on his own with just the slightest help. He carefully braces the older man as Alec stands up, hissing slightly as he puts pressure on his healing bones, and shuffles sideways into the chair. Nearly sighing in relief as he settles into the chair.

As soon as Alec is situated, he moves to the side, closing up the wheelchair and putting it behind the armchair. He turns the second armchair towards the others before settling in the second chair. Legs go over the arm chair, his back against the other side.

"Hello Boss," Bogdan comments, ignoring him.

"Bogdan," his soulmate responds with a nod, "Raskova, Dayesi."

He smiles to himself, closing his eyes and breathing, he will leave for the few minutes after Svetlana delivers the tea and snacks.

He can feel the Bogdan's eyes falling on him, almost like a glare, so he tips his head and smirks at the tall man.

Before the older man can say anything to him, the housekeeper comes in carrying the tray with the tea and snacks. Alec snorts, grabbing his coffee and taking a sip of it.

"Will that be all sirs?" She asks, glancing between him and his soulmate.

"More coffee for him please," he requests, not actually saying his spy's name.

"Of course," she responds, "Will your company be staying for dinner?"

"Not today," he answers calmly, smiling at her as she nods.

Dayesi and Lidiya share another speaking look.

She nods, leaving the room.

Alec snickers quietly, the only sound in the room as Dmitri steps in.

"You can go help Svetlana," he tells his assistant, meeting Dmitri's gray eyes.

His assistant glances between everyone in the room, concern filling his eyes. Slowly the toffee blonde turns and leaves.

Again Alec chuckles, a small smile curving the spy's lips.

He enjoys the expression on his spy's lips, standing and stretching.

"I'll leave you to your visit and will check back in a few minutes," he comments, meeting Alec's eyes. Turning to Dayesi and Lidiya, he states quite clearly, "Do not wear him out. You will not like the aftermath if you do."

Dayesi glances between him and his soulmate speculatively.

Lidiya nods slowly in agreement.

"Perfect," he hums, leaving without bothering to look at Bogdan. He can feel the tall Russians eyes following him out. He'll go chat with Aither for a few minutes.

Oo-O-oO

Alec's POV  
He watches as Jon leaves, all long lines and easy grace. There is something about the teenager that draws his attention.

"You were right," Dayesi tells Lilya with a smirk.

"I know," the tall woman replies, with a mischievous smile, "Pouting isn't going to change that, Petya."

His second just glares at her in response.

"What was she right about?" He asks eventually. His legs are aching, going through the part of the healing process where they are either going to ache, itch, or both.

The women share a smile.

Dayesi arches one black brow at him, challenging that question.

Ah, he thinks, smirking in response. "Isn't the front door nice?"

"It is easier than the window." She agrees with a nod, "How'd he know?"

"The window is wired for electricity. He noticed the wire had been moved," he answers with a small shrug.

"Hmmm," she hums, eyes narrowing as she thinks about that statement.

He's not planning on telling her where it was. He might trust her but he knows Jon doesn't. He'll not betray the trust his roommate showed by revealing the secret. That'd be counter productive.

"We've come to take you home," Pyotr declares, the first thing his friend has said since he entered the room.

"If you'd like, that is," Lilya corrects, smiling in amusement, "I'm guessing you wouldn't like it."

"You'd be right," he agrees, chuckling softly at Dayesi who holds an open palm out to Pyotr, his friend setting money in her hand.

"Why? This place isn't safe. How much of your injuries were made worse because of that doctor? I don't care what that _boy_ ," his friend sneers, "said, I don't trust them."

His eyes narrow at the bigger man, if he didn't understand that it's concern driving Petya, he'd be offended by the implication.

His fellow agent bursts out laughing, shaking her head and grinning.

Bogdan glares at her angrily.

"Easy now, you may not trust Doctor Markov, but you do trust me, and I can say that Alec's doing wonderfully considering the damage. However," she turns her attention to him, "how exactly did you get those injuries?"

"The agent sent to deal with the Janus network dropped me off the satellite in Cuba." He answers, not willing to say James' name because he knows these three would try and go after him. He knows his soulmate's skills, as much as he likes these three, James would win.

Dayesi tips her head and studies him speculatively, nodding once sharply.

Lilya glances between him and her lover, her own expression curious.

"Why do you want to stay here Boss?" Bogdan asks, truly baffled.

Meeting his friends eyes, he shrugs and simply answers, "I want him."

Dayesi holds her hand out again, and again Pyotr puts money in her hand.

The four of them sit quietly for a few minutes, Lilya deciding to snack on the little bites placed on the table.

"What would you like us to do with the network?" Bogdan eventually asks, switching to a familiar topic.

He thinks about it for a few minutes before replying, and the discussion takes off from there. So much so he doesn't notice the time passing or the fact he is getting steadily more tired and closer to exhaustion until Jon comes back in a little while later to check on him. Nearly as soon as he stops speaking, he sways in spot, shaking his head.

"You let him get tired," Jon accuses Lidiya angrily.

She blushes, pushing a little closer to her partner.

"We should get going," Dayesi announces, "Will it be alright if we come back?"

The teens attention switches to the other spy, replying, "Come between breakfast and lunch, you can help while he does his rehab."

"Agreed," the doctor immediately states, not giving the other two time to say anything. "Thank you for taking care of him."

Jon just barely tips his head to the side, not responding.

His three stand up, each bid him goodbye before turning to leave. Dmitri shows them out.

Closing his eyes, he spends a few minutes just breathing, it's not as easy as he would prefer. Jon waits until he opens his eyes again before grabbing the wheelchair.

"Ready?" the younger man queries in English absently.

"Yes," he answers roughly.

Very carefully they work together to get him in the wheelchair. Once in it, he closes his eyes again and Jon takes them back to the room. Getting from the chair to the bed isn't as smooth, he's exhausted and the teen ends up catching him when his legs buckle.

"Gotcha," the younger man murmurs, eyes narrowing in concentration as Jon does most the work to get him in the bed.

It's rather embarrassing, but not as bad as it could be. Once he is in the bed, he finds himself passing out far quicker than he appreciates. One moment he's awake, the next he's not.


	29. 18th Birthday

Jon’s POV  
It's October fourteenth, he thinks as he fires up his laptop, why does today have to be the fourteenth? Can’t they just skip straight to the fifteenth? Too bad Alec’s personal doctor or second aren’t available today, he’d really like some alone time. He’s not leaving his soulmate with any of the household staff or Dmitri, not for too long anyways, because they tend to press the spy’s buttons, mostly on accident.

He would really like to just have a few minutes to himself, but how to do that without anyone really noticing or asking why? It’s one time he doesn’t want to explain himself. Not that he explains himself all that often.

So he waits, working on his laptop while Alec is napping, and then working some more while the older man does paperwork that his second had brought by the last time he was in.

He stops during their meals, Svetlana bringings them breakfast and lunch, right on her normal timeline, both of which he thanks the housekeeper for bringing to them.

After lunch, Alec states he wants to work on the bars for a little bit, and while he is sure he should say no, he just shrugs and helps to get the older man to the rehab room. Once Alec is working on them, he steps out, happy to see Svetlana immediately.

“While he works on the bars I’d like to get a shower, can you keep an eye on him for a few minutes?” he requests softly, Dmitri won’t be in until later. Right now his assistant is with his family because their son had a doctor’s appointment today.

“Of course Ivan, take your time. I can fetch you if something goes wrong.” She replies nearly instantly, patting his arm encouragingly.

“Thank you,” he comments as she slips through the door and into the rehab room.

He is just about back to his bedroom when Valentin comes striding over, that distracted look that his father gets when there is a patient he needs to deal with.

“I have been called away to take care of a patient, Ivan, I don’t know when I will be back.” Valentin tells him, “Do not feel the need to wait up for me.”

He nods, swallowing and not saying anything, wanting to see if his father would remember or not.

“Have a good day, Ivan.” Valentin bids him before the doctor leaves without saying anything else.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath before finishing his trip to his bedroom. Quietly he grabs a change of clothes from his dresser before heading to the bathroom. Turning on the water, he allows the bathroom to steam up as he takes his time removing his clothing and tossing them in the laundry basket to be washed later.

Once he has his clothes off, he takes his time studying the soulmarks in the mirror, noticing that the storm clouds have stopped changing finally, at least for the time being. He doesn’t know why it took so long for them to resettle after the last round of changes. He can only assume it has to do with what lead to the changes in the first place.

Giving a small shake of his head before he has a chance to start going over that again, he’s been over it a lot as it is.

His eyes travel to the tree, delighting in exactly how healthy and alive it is looking. He’s worried that when he tells Alec about it, well actually he has already decided showing is easier than saying, that Alec is going to leave and the tree is going to wither. He hopes that’s not the case, but with everything that has happened to his soulmate, well he sort of expects it. Until that time however, he is going to take care of his agent as best as possible.

The steam makes it so he can’t see the mirror or his soulmarks in it, so he climbs into the water, sitting down so his back is to the sprayer and letting the water wash over him.

“Happy birthday,” he murmurs to himself, remembering the last person to tell him that aloud was his mum two years before.

“I miss you, all three of you,” he mutters as he folds his arms over his knees and rests his head against them, continuing to let the water pour down around him.

His mind is in chaos as he sits there, the water making his tense muscles relax.

It’s been two years since someone remembered his birthday. Two years since there was a gift just for him that didn’t feel like it was an obligation present as last year’s Christmas had. Two years since he felt like he was _home_. He misses that feeling, misses it so much.

He understands why he is here, none of his other relatives wanted him and it was the best option. Far better than ending up as a ward of the state, particularly with his skills and personality traits. The way his dad had taught him was unconventional at best, downright dangerous at worse. He has a lot of talents that many would say are inappropriate for a teenager, hacking being just one of them.

Valentin, the father he has known of since he was ten even though his father didn't know him, is trying. Had come for him as soon as Valentin learned of his existence, hadn’t questioned him more than just the general are you sure and those questions stopped the moment they came face to face. Since then, his biological father and the third member of his mum’s soulmate triad, the one she walked away from before she met Rory or knew she was pregnant with him, had tried. It just wasn’t always as successful as his father probably hopes. Years of not having anyone his father was answerable to or cared for, because he has a feeling that Valentin only officially belongs to a triad and isn’t an active part of it, means the doctor keeps forgetting that he’s there.

Actually, he wonders if Valentin is ashamed of him. It has now been a year since he moved to Russia with his father, and he still has not met the other members of the triad.

Tears slowly fall down his face as he realizes that he has no one who would truly miss him if something was to happen.

Well, not completely true. Aither would notice if he stopped hacking and chatting with her. Whether she would do anything about it he doesn’t know. He’s not sure they are actually that good of friends. Svetlana, Gregor, and Dmitri might notice, but only because it’s their jobs to. Valentin might notice after Svetlana and Gregor notice because they would bring it up. As for Alec, well, he’s sure as soon as the agent can walk his soulmate will walk out of his life and that will be it.

Only, maybe Valentin would remember. After all, there was only once his father saw his soulmarks, yet the doctor knew Alec is his. That has to mean something. What he doesn’t know right now, and he wishes, damn does he wish, that he could ask his da, the one person he’s always been able to related to. That option is gone. So maybe he needs to confront Valentin instead. That’d be better than brooding or feeling anxiety over something he doesn’t need to feel it over.

He stays under the water, letting his emotions that he has been pushing aside for months pour through him. Crying into his arms as the room continues to steam.

He’s relieved that the water stays hot through all of it. Relieved that he finally let it all out, rather than continuing to bottle it all up. He’s even relieved he’s able to get himself washed up before it finally goes cold. Climbing out of the shower, he wraps the towel around himself and stands there in the steamy bathroom just breathing, letting the moisture in the air hide the fact he was crying. It’s no one’s business but his that he decided his birthday is the day to finally release it all.

It might not be the sort of birthday he would have had with his family, but he is damned well not going to let it get worse. Besides, he thinks as he sets to drying off, now that he’s legal he should set to trying to woo Alec, give the agent a reason to want to stay. He wants Alec to realize that he can be trusted, though how he is going to go about proving that he doesn’t know.

That will be his birthday gift to himself, research on how to earn a very understandably wary spy’s trust.


	30. Questionable Plotting

Alec’s POV  
Something’s off with Jon, he thinks as the teenager re-enters the rehab room nearly an hour later. The hacker’s gray eyes are sad but determined, his hair still wet and curling wildly, and wearing a different outfit than he had this morning.

There is something about the younger man that makes him want to pull Jon close and hold tight. It makes him want to offer comfort when he doesn’t really know how. How can he offer something he doesn’t even feel? But he wants to, like an ache in his bones, he wants to. Just once he wants to know that he is causing joy, and not because of a mission or a job, but because he did something on his own.

How to go about doing that?

He could ask Lilya, as the most socially adjusted person he gets along with, she’d be able to tell him. Only she’s not coming by today, none of them are. He’s pretty sure that Valentin has already left, which leaves Svetlana the housekeeper and Dmitri the short term and new assistant. Not good odds.

Well, he was a spy for years, what would his training suggest he do? Get a straight answer.

He can’t stop himself from snorting, drawing the attention of both the housekeeper and his, what is Jon to him? The teen’s not a mark or a target. Not an employee, because he can still very clearly recall how his ears rang when Bogdan tried offering money. He can remember the quiet threatening promise when he threatened to move around on his own. Not like that was actually happening.

After seeing his x-rays he’s actually amazed he was able to move the amount he did without his limbs giving out. He was in piss poor shape, pretty sure he hadn’t even been in that bad of shape after Arkhangelsk and the mess the explosives had made of him. He really should thank Jon for all the hard work and effort the younger man has had to put into him, but how? How to make that haunted, sad look vanish and stay gone? How to thank someone whose motivation is still a complete and utter mystery? Yes that’s bugging him, he wants to be walking _now_ just so he can get his answers. Maybe that’s the wrong way to go at this.

There have already been several times where he has imagined being in an intimate, or at least a sensual relationship with Jon. Sure, he is aware the teen is never going to keep him for long. Too broken, too old, too _not_ his soulmate, but he could definitely give the teen a reason to want to keep him for _now._ Fond memories to over shadow those memories of putting him back together, or spending weeks inside when he is sure there are other things Jon could be doing than taking care of his broken arse.

Step one will be to actually listen. It’s not easy, not at all. He hates feeling trapped by anything, his body included, but he’d try.

Step two, actually remember all the small things and stories Jon has told him in the last several weeks with them platonically sleeping together. That has definitely been an experience for him. Normally he only sleeps in bed with someone he is fucking because he is bored or needs information. While he would like information, neither of those options seems quite right with his teen that makes it a point to see to his comfort. There has to be something he can do with all that information. Why hadn’t he paid more attention when it was being said? Right, pain levels and exhaustion, he must be slipping.

Step three, do something with all the little information. He can enlist that housekeeper or assistant, maybe even Dayesi or Lilya, into helping him. Since he is currently stuck in the wheelchair except when in bed or working on walking, he’ll probably need the assistance. Jon’s room does not seem like a home. It doesn’t seem like a haven. Actually, if he’s being perfectly honest, that laptop seems to be Jon’s one possession that he cares about, the thing he would be lost without. Maybe step three should involve something of that nature?

Step four, stop flinching so much. He thinks just before his right, the one with the worse break, leg starts to give, and he finds a pair of sturdy if slender arms looping around him.

“Gotcha,” the teen mutters in English, “Do you want to keep pushing or ready to relax for a bit?”

“Relax,” he answers, not done plotting but realizing he might have pushed his body a bit too far.

Well fuck, he’s messing up step one and he hasn’t even finished plotting what the steps will be.

“Can you get your leg back under you so I can grab the wheelchair or should we see about you hoping on the other to the wheelchair?” Jon asks quietly in his ear.

Why does he trust this teenager behind him? He doesn’t really trust anyone behind him, not even Dayesi, Pyotr, or Lilya. It’s definitely something to add to his ever growing list of things to think about. Why does he have an ever growing list of things to think about that revolve around Jon?

Gritting his teeth, he manages to get his leg to bend slowly, and with Jon’s help straighten his body out so the damned thing is back where it belongs. He doesn’t need his body causing him problems right now. He can cause enough all on his own thanks.

“Hold tight, I’m grabbing the chair,” the dark-haired teen tells him, carefully letting go and making sure he’s not going down before actually moving away to grab the chair.

He really wishes he understood the younger man’s motivation, but has pretty much accepted he has to bide his time and wait for the ability to walk without nearly falling on his face.

A moment later Jon is behind him once more, the chair carefully tucked against the back of his less injured leg so he can easily feel where it is in order to settle in it. He can’t stop the small sigh of relief as soon as his weight is off his legs, and he realizes just how much they are aching.

Jon is quiet as the younger man returns them to the shared bedroom, yet another thing he wants a straight answer on that he probably isn’t getting. So far every time he has asked, his roommate has stated it’s easier. Something tells him it’s more than that, but this teen can rival him for stubbornness. Back in the bedroom, he grits his teeth and works with the younger man as he switches from chair to bed, sighing in relief a second time when he stretches out along the mattress and can just lay there for a few minutes.

The next time he is aware of his surroundings, several hours have passed judging by the way the sunlight has changed where it‘s coming through the window at.

Eyes opening, he glances about, noticing that the teen seems to be typing away at his laptop, an intense expression of focus on his face as his fingers fly over the keys.

“Would you answer if I asked what you are working on?” he asks as he scoots up higher up on the bed, using his right more than his left to do so.

It seems as if Jon isn’t going to answer when the younger man finally swivels around his chair towards him, a playful smile curving the teen’s lips, “Annoying a MI5 analyst.”

He blinks, because that is definitely not what he was expecting the teen to say. “Why?” he inquires curiously.

“One of their hackers annoyed me, so I am giving them a reason not to do that again,” Jon answers as he pivots back to his screen. “Seriously, supposedly one of the best minds in the world, I keep trapping his entire line to the server, and only his connection to it, because he doesn’t learn from his mistakes.”

He blinks trying to figure out the fact a teenager is doing what an entire room of hackers couldn’t do, apparently from the ease of his laptop in the middle of Russia.

“Do that often?” he inquires, trying to decide if he wants the water next to the bed or if he’d like to request some coffee.

“Only when bored, not researching or coding something else. Also when he makes very obvious mistakes.” The teen answers distractedly. “Of course, one of these days his bosses are going to check their servers and all the problems will trace back to his computer with no signs of an outside computer doing any of it.”

Smiling, he comments, “Good plan.”

“I can pop my head out and ask Svetlana to get a fresh pot of tea and some coffee just as soon as I finish putting a nail in this idiot’s career.” Jon offers after a few minutes. Almost bashfully, the younger man admits, “I sort of drank the last pot while ruining this idiot’s career.” The teen’s gets serious as he continues, “And it will be ruined, mostly because I had him send a link to his boss.”

“Out of curiosity, why him?” he asks as the hacker goes back to typing.

“People who intentionally screw off while working, and cause someone who doesn’t deserve to get hurt to get hurt, need to not be in that job.” Jon answers firmly, still not focused on him but the computer, “In this particular idiot’s case, he got two people killed, and five more injured. All of which could have been avoided had he been paying attention to the code.”

Less than half an hour later, the teenager is shutting down the laptop and standing up, stretching as he does so in a manner he is getting quite familiar with. He’s curious where Jon’s soulmark is, well, if Jon has one. Dayesi lacks an actual soulmark, but she has a bondmark with Lilya. Lilya’s soulmark faded the second year she worked for him, gone over the course of a two week period. That had been the turning point between hers and Dayesi’s relationship though it was still another two years before the bondmark appeared.

Walking over to the door, the teen slips out it for a moment, and he can hear soft voices before Jon slips back in.

“Dinner, fresh tea for me and coffee for you, will be here in few minutes,” Jon remarks as he wanders over to the bookshelf, hands lightly gliding over the spines of the books.

He watches the younger man, once more getting the feeling that something is off, still not having a clue what it is. Try playing the questions and answers game? Probably won’t get an answer. Jon’s a particularly tight-lipped person when it comes to questions, but will just chat about anything else without second thought, what a contradiction.

Where was he in the plotting? He asks himself as he remembers what he had been doing before falling asleep. Ah yes, steps to make Jon want to keep him around. He’s still not sure why he wants that. After all, he doesn’t know much about Jon, except a billion small memories shared while he was in pain and needing something to focus on other than hurting.

What’s a good list of things he knows? Jon’s favorite color is turquoise, favorite gemstone being the same, particularly the mixed tone types that vary from rich green to deep blue all on one piece. The younger man thinks his eyes are beautiful because of that factor and depending on the light is whether they seem green, blue, or turquoise. Jon can speak in four languages, can write in seven, eight if counting the number codes of computers. He’s never seen the younger man without long sleeves or slacks, even sleeping bottoms are long, though he’s rarely seen Jon in those either. First thing in the morning the teen is moody before his first cup of tea, never drinks coffee because it gives him the shakes. Jon was raised by his mum, her soulmate Rory, and the third member of their triad John. All three shared a bondmark, which meant that his mum and Rory had three marks on their skin, not two. Most of Jon’s skills and talents come from John, the one who didn’t belong to the soulmate triad but was the parent the teen was closest to.

There has to be more, he thinks, trying to recall any other important detail.

Jon knows how to deal with a fact he is touch starved, knows how to keep calm and help him feel like he can relax. The teen apparently knows how to pick a lock by his own admission. According to Dmitri, Jon knows how to pick pockets without being caught. The younger man is a hacker, not just a small time hacker either, but one with excellent skills. The fact Jon can hack MI5 or MI6 and apparently not get caught while barely paying attention from the looks of it says a lot.

The biggest indicator that something is off with Jon comes when the housekeeper brings them dinner. Jon thanks her politely, but it's distracted compared to normal, which is odd since the younger man is not quite so distracted, even when working on the laptop. Svetlana’s eyes flicker over the teen for moment, as if trying to figure out what is wrong, before she asks if he needs anything.

He just shakes his head, watching the way Jon carefully slides onto the side of the bed, tray balanced on his lap. At this point he could probably balance it himself, however he likes the pattern they have, Jon making sure he doesn’t drop it as he carefully uses the silverware.

That doesn’t change, what does change, and is noticeable, is the fact that Jon barely touches his food. From what he has seen of the younger man normally has a great appetite, so why not today?

Just over an hour later, it is Dmitri who knocks at the door to see if they are nearly done. Jon manages to inquire after the assistants son, but spaces on the boy’s name, and only seems to partly listen to the answer he is given, which has Dmitri giving him concerned looks as well.

So it’s not just him, he realizes, they’re finding Jon’s behavior odd as well.

After Dmitri takes the tray with most of Jon’s food away, he suggests, “Why don’t you lay down for a little bit?”

The teen tilts his head, looking at him curiously and maybe just a little suspiciously, “I’m not tired,” the hacker eventually answers.

“Lay down anyways?” he replies quietly, explaining, “I don’t think I have seen you sleep in the time we’ve been sharing a bed.” When it looks like the younger man isn’t going to do so, he softly states, “Please?”

Eyes narrowing on him for a long moment Jon finally shrugs, and downs what’s left of his cup of tea, “I’m going to use the bathroom first.”

Does he need to use the bathroom? He asks himself, taking stock of his body and deciding he doesn’t. A few minutes later the teenager exits the bathroom, having changed out of his day clothes and into some pajamas.

Jon hesitates when he gets close to the bed, shifting from foot to foot before finally clamoring into his normal spot.

“You’re not used to having other people around when you sleep are you?” he asks gently, realizing what part of the problem is.

Blushing, the teen ducks his head as he tries to get comfortable. “Not really, one of my less pleasant cousins liked to pull tricks on me. It’s part of why I have the windows wired to zap. I’m not always a still sleeper either.”

Careful not to jar his arm too much, he tentatively takes hold of Jon’s hand and squeezing lightly, “Go to sleep Jon, I’ll wake you if someone tries something.”

Tipping his head to the side, Jon looks at their fingers, gray-green eyes wide as he worries his bottom lip.

Curling along his side uncertainly, the teen rests his head against his shoulder, eyes drifting shut.

He continues to hold Jon’s hand as the younger man drifts off to sleep, body slowly relaxing. A small smile plays at the edge of his lips as he studies the teen. From this angle Jon looks even younger, not that he needs to try to do that.

Jon trusts me, he realizes, like a bolt of lightning flashing through him. The last person to trust him like this was James, and look at how that turned out. Maybe his goal of getting Jon to want him around will not be as hard as he expects.


	31. Embarrassment?

Jon’s POV  
He is working on his computer while Alec is working on the parallel bars when Valentin slips into the room, stopping next to him to states, “I’m home, I should be home for the next two weeks barring any emergencies.”

Without looking away from his laptop, he comments, “Good to know.”

Something in his tone must reveal his aggravation because his father asks, “Is everything alright?”

“We need to talk one of these days, whenever you feel you have time,” he answers a bit sarcastically. He might be a bit more mature than most eighteen year olds, but he still has his bad days. This happens to be one of them.

“Ivan?” there is something questioning and worried to Valentin’s tone.

He hears Alec stop moving, almost as if he is waiting to hear what happens next.

Taking a deep breath, he closes out the laptop and turns to face his father, keeping an almost blank face. “Yes?”

“What’s wrong?” the doctor asks, concern filling his voice.

His eyes flicker to Alec, seeing how his agent is holding perfectly still, body tense as he waits. For the last three days his soulmate has tried connecting a bit more, at least that’s what it seems like. He doesn’t know what prompted the change, but he is not asking until Alec is able to walk on his own. His list of things to discuss with Alec when it’s time keeps growing.

For a moment he considers taking this in the hall, Alec doesn’t need to deal with this. At the same time he knows that his soulmate was curious why he seemed off on his birthday, even if it had somehow led to the changes in their dynamic.

“What’s the date?” he inquires, keeping his voice calm even though he feels anything but.

Confused, Valentin responds, “October eighteenth.”

Even before he asks the next question, he sees Alec turn in the corner of his vision, eyes widening slightly as the agent stares at him. “When’s my birthday?”

“October fourteenth…” his father’s voice trails off as if realizing. “I missed it. Actually that’s the day I left. I didn’t. You didn’t. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you say?”

He shrugs, trying to keep the pain from his voice as he answers, “The last person to wish me a happy birthday aloud and meant it was mum.She wished me a happy birthday at dinner time after making my favorites. Dad gave me the laptop, with a memo wishing me a happy birthday and pleasant hacking, which mum wasn’t amused with. Pops took me to lunch and we spent the afternoon discussing what I wished to do with myself.”

With almost every word Valentin flinches, at this point he’s not pulling punches.

“I’ve been here more than a year. While I can understand the fact you did not want me meeting some of your coworkers or patients, I have wondered if you are ashamed or embarrassed because of me.” He states softly. “You wear triad rings, and I know you legally belong to a triad, but I have yet to meet the other members. Fairly sure it’s your intention to never introduce them to me. I’m eighteen, I can leave if you’d prefer.”

All the color drains from Valentin’s face, his eyes widening in disbelief and shock. “You don’t mean that.”

Frowning slightly, he inquires, “Why wouldn’t I? I could give you a really long list of why I believe that.”

“Can we speak in private?” Valentin requests, eyes flickering to Alec.

“I’m done,” the agent announces at the same time, making his way back to the chair parked at the edge of the bars.

He keeps an eye on his soulmate as the tall man settles into the wheelchair with a nearly silent hiss of pain. Thankfully Alec has not overdone it. Actually, he should probably see about getting his room set up so Alec can move around on his own.

“I’ll be fine in the chair,” the spy remarks as he maneuvers through the room, stopping next to him just long enough to brush hand against his. “Mind if I use the phone in the bedroom?”

“Go ahead,” he replies, smiling at the spy because he is happy that Alec is not over doing it this time. “Dmitri and Svetlana are floating around if you need anything until I return to the room.”

Alec nods, touching his hand one more time before leaving the room.

It’s the first time Alec has let him out of sight by choice, part of him is pleased with that, another part is saddened because he knows it means they are just that much closer to Alec walking out of his life. His eyes close for a moment as he gives a small shake of his head. No, now is not the time to think about that.

“I’m sorry I forgot your birthday. I swear I was trying to remember. I don’t forget you’re here. I’m not ashamed of you.” Valentin quickly swears as soon as Alec is gone from the room. “We’re family, though apparently I have done a poor job of showing that. I never introduced you to the rest of the triad because we’re nothing but a contract. They are a couple who either never had a third soulmate or their third died, but they have children, and it’s safer having three parents than two legally, even if the third lives in a different home for work purposes.” The doctor pauses to catch his breath before continuing on. “I’ll see if I can make arrangements for you to meet them.”

He’s not sure what to say to that, so he mumbles, “That’d be nice.”

“I knew when I saw the mark I would not get to have you long, I didn’t realize that I would be the cause of it. Please stay as long as you want. I want you here.” Valentine tells him urgently, a flush coloring his father’s skin as the older man’s voice gets a lot quieter. “I like that you are a part of me and her. She left me, but I still have you, and you are a treasure.”

Blinking, he’s not actually sure how to respond to that statement. He hasn’t felt like a treasure. Actually, he’s felt like he’s been nothing but in the way and a problem. So he hasn’t been one? How odd. Normally his da is the only person not bothered by his habits and personality. Since coming here he’s been trying to keep a few under wraps, but it’s not always successful and he thought that his oddest was part of why Valentin didn’t want him. Only apparently Valentin does. How odd.

Hesitantly smiling, Valentin remarks, “Anything special you’d like for dinner?”

He gives a small shake of his head, “No, I’m not actually hungry so have Gregor make whatever he originally planned on. If that’s all?”

“I,” there is a pause, “Yes, of course, we can talk more later.”

He retreats before the emotions start to get overwhelming. He really doesn’t do well with overwhelming. Besides, he wants to check on Alec. At least that is one situation he knows what to expect, even if he hopes for something totally different to occur.


	32. Gift

Alec's POV  
After wheeling himself to the bedroom, he takes a long minute to just breathe. Breathing is good. Not over stressing his still healing breaks is good too. Grabbing the phone, he quickly recalls Lilya's number and gives her a call, hoping she isn't busy.

_'Doctor Raskova,'_ she answers the phone three rings later.

"Hello Raskova," he replies, lips twitching in a smile.

' _Alec! Is something wrong_?' there is worry filling his friend's voice.

That's quite a revelation, prior to this he didn't really think of them as friends. At least not good friends. Yet they are, better friends than he expected or probably deserves. They didn't react the way they did because of working together, they reacted that way from friendship.

"No, nothing's wrong, Lidiya," he answers calmingly. "Jon's birthday was four days ago. I hadn't known that. I'd like to get him a gift, but it's hard to do from here."

What sort of gift? He asks himself, scanning the room and reconsidering the information he knows. What sort of gift would appeal to Jon? Something that would have meaning. The only two things that seem to hold meaning are the laptop and the books. Though, from what he can tell some books have a better importance than other ones. Those books are all kept on the top shelf, behind a carefully installed pane of glass. He’d bet that the rest of the shelf is encased in glass to in order to protect them as well.

So definitely a book. What type of book? Well, there are a lot of stories on the book case, many relating to mythology and folklore. There are also a lot of young adult and horror books. Very little in the way of romance unless it is in mythology and folklore. Well then, he’ll go with mythology and folklore.

She sighs in relief, then chuckles softly.

' _I can pick up the gifts. What type of gift are you thinking_?' She inquires when she stops chuckling. ' _Or do you need help with an idea?'_

"I know what I want to get him." He answers, glancing at the door to see if Jon's near by. "Books, more exact, first edition or antique books." His eyes shift to the book shelves, "Considering what he has, I was thinking something along the lines of folklore or mythology. He seems to use them to learn languages."

She hums thoughtfully, asking, ' _Something like the Frog Princess?'_

He thinks about it for a minute, glancing at the door again. "1001 Nights," he replies, "In the original Arabic."

' _I can do that,_ ' she remarks after a few moments, _'If I can't find it, Dayesi can.'_

He hears the teens light footsteps approaching, "Perfect. Bring it as soon as you can. I'll pay you back for it later."

' _All right Alec, don't stress yourself too much_ ,' she tells him, ' _I'll talk with you later_.'

She doesn't actually give him a chance to say anything before she hangs up, which is perfectly fine because he didn't actually have anything more to say. Instead he hangs the phone up. Turning the wheelchair towards the bed, he's considering trying to move into it when the younger man enters the room.

Jon moves slowly through the room, stopping beside him to ask, "Would you like a hand?"

He's noticed that the younger man has been trying to ask more often. It's not something he is sure he appreciates. The less help he needs, the less often the teen touches him. While the touches are platonic, he still enjoys them and doesn't want them to stop. When he first woke up he hated the idea of needing help. Now though, well, he doesn't mind getting help from Jon, even if he doesn't understand why. Maybe because he doesn’t think Jon wants something. At least that’s the impression he has from the last several weeks. If he’s not mistaken the teen expects him to walk out of the his life as soon as possible. Hell, Jon was offended at the idea of getting paid for his assistance. Another little detail that surprised him.

"Please," he answers, acknowledging he might have overdone it slightly.

The hacker nods, shifting his positioning so the younger man can be of assistance.

In under a minute, probably less than thirty seconds if he was counting, he's shifted from wheelchair to bed. He stretches out, closing his eyes and sighing in relief, he just wants some sleep. He didn't do much but he's exhausted.

"Take a nap," Jon suggests in Scottish Gaelic, "You'll feel better afterwards"

"Join me?" he requests quietly, not actually expecting the smaller man to do so.

There's a moment's hesitation before he feels the bed dip slightly, "Alright," the teen agrees.

Over the next three days he sees Raskova and Bogdan but not Dayesi, often times during his morning PT. With them assisting, he doesn't have to see Dmitri, which is he is happy about. When he gives the doctor a questioning glance, she merely smiles in response. Excellent, Dayesi’s getting the book then.

On the fourth day, Dayesi comes through the window a second time, tossing a package on bed and almost singing, "Here you go!" Her attention immediately turns to the window, studying how it is laid out and probably looking for the wire. "I don't see it," she mutters.

"It's built into the frame," Jon answers the door. "By the time you visit again I will have moved it and have a new security trap in place."

She chuckles, turning to look at the hacker with a curious expression in her eyes. "Well I have errands to run, just thought I'd stop by."

“Thank you,” he tells his fellow agent with a small smile, just the corner of his lips barely curving upwards.

She nods, smirking and nodding towards the gift before telling them, “Nice seeing you again.” A moment later she leaves the same way she entered.

His attention turns to the present he asked Lilya for. Smiling at the gold and green wrapping, he picks the book up and offers it to Jon. Hopefully the younger man will like the gift. He can't remember if the teen wants to learn Arabic or not, but he hopes the book is appreciated. Considering the fact the younger man seems to like learning languages, it probably is on a list somewhere. Actually, he should find out what all languages are on that list and pick books accordingly.

Startled, the younger man looks between him and package in his hands, eyes widening in shock. "I don't understand." Jon mumbles, taking the wrapped book and looking between them one more time.

"Happy birthday," he softly states, "I would have had this for you before your birthday had I known when it was."

Slowly the hacker walks around the bed, sitting down and biting his lower lip. Long fingers trace over the smooth lines of the wrapping, fingertips searching for the tape. When the younger man finds it, Jon surprises him by twisting around, and pulling a knife from the drawer next to the bed.

When was that put there? It wasn't there when he looked through the drawers closest to the bed. Maybe he needs to look through the drawers again.

Using the knife, the hacker slides the blade carefully along the edge of the tape, slicing through it cleanly. The knife goes back in the drawer, the teen opens the wrapping very carefully, setting it aside before slowly looking at the book.

At a glance he knows that the book is old, very old from what he can see. Despite that it's nearly in pristine condition. He doesn't read Arabic, but it's very beautifully written from what he can tell.

"Why?" Jon asks, eyes meeting his.

His lips quirk up as he answers, "Because I can."

Jon glances between him and book, hand gently stroking the leather material the cover is made of. "I still don't understand." The hacker remarks slowly, "But I'm not going to ask again until later." Smiling wistfully, the teen continues, "That's only fair game."

He snickers, shaking his head. "Why do you have a knife in your bedside table?"

Shrugging lazily, the teen responds, "'Cause I can."

"Good reason," he answers chuckling, "My kind of reason."

Looking back at the book, Jon comments, "Arabic is on my list to learn. Did you know?"

"No," he replies honestly, “Well, we discussed languages but I don't remember much of the conversation. I just figured it might be on your list considering the fact you seem to have a variety of books in different languages."

Smiling at him warmly, the younger man hugs the book to his chest for a long moment before standing in order to carefully store it in the desk. Turning towards him once more, Jon just about beams at him. "Thank you," the hacker tells him sincerely.

"You're welcome," he replies, pleased his gift idea is a good one. He wonders how long it will take for Jon to understand the message behind the book. The story of Shahryar and Scheherazade is one of the most famous dyad relationships in history. Hopefully the meaning behind it, that he would like to form a dyad, is something Jon accepts. Only time will tell.


	33. Self Doubt

Alec's POV  
In the days following, he dials it back on the physical therapy. Not because he wants to slow down, because he really doesn't want to, but because he has a bad tendency to over do it. Every time he has overdone it, he has seen the stress that it puts on Jon. He doesn't like to put stress on Jon, he has a feeling that plenty of other people do that.

During his twelfth week of healing, Valentin clears him to start removing the splints while he is bathing and to start working on getting his fine motor skills back with his hands.

Almost as soon as the doctor leaves, Jon queries, "Would you like to take a hot bath without the splints?"

"Yes," he agrees immediately, excitement strumming through him.

"If you'd like," the younger man blushes, “If you wait until after dinner, I'll give you a massage after your bath."

"I'd enjoy that," he answers, smiling at the hacker.

"I'd suggest taking the day off from rehab, that way you don't overdo it with your limbs while you are excited," Jon states softly.

He doesn't want to take a day off, but he'll do it for the same reason he has cut back on pushing himself too far.

"Read to me?" he asks, motioning to the bookshelf.

A small smile curves the smaller man's lips as he nods and grabs the book they had been working on last.

The next few hours are spent with them curled up together on the bed, the smaller man reading myths about the Franks in French. With each book the younger man is getting better at reading and saying the words, though he has a very obvious accent. Just before dinner, the teen finishes the book, closing it and putting it back on the shelves.

It's been years since he used French with any regularity, but he still knows the language. "Did you take lessons?" He asks curiously, he's sure they have discussed it but he's drawing a blank.

"Some," Jon answers in French, "I focused on Russian more than French."

He nods in understanding. "Why do you like learning languages?" he inquires.

Shrugging, Jon replies, "It was a game growing up. Dad knew more languages than I do, I know a lot of random words from different languages because of it. Eventually I plan to learn every language we used to play with."

"What all languages did you use?" he asks, knowing that it will give him an idea as to what type of books to get.

"Arabic, German, Spanish, French, Greek and Italian. I think he actually knew more than that, but those were the ones we used. Of those languages I remember maybe ten to twenty words each, mostly I remember the sounds," the teenager comments. "I took French in order to learn it first. Would have taken more classes if the schools would have allowed me."

Studying Jon, he changes his initial assessment. The teen is not highly smart, he's a genius. Understated, but still a genius. Why does the hacker play at normal? Actually, he doesn't really play at normal, he just doesn't announce he's a genius. Show rather than tell, seems to be Jon's theory on close to everything.

He barely notices when the younger man opens the door in order to get their dinner from the housekeeper because he is lost in thought. Going over everything that has happened since he woke up. Or trying to anyways. There are a lot of spots he has a hard time with because there is only so much pain he can cope with without it actively screwing up his perception. He's sure he's missing something, he's just not sure what it is.

"Everything alright?" the hacker asks when he settles on the side of the bed with the tray.

Giving a small shake of his head, he smiles ruefully, answering, "I think so."

For a moment Jon looks as if he doesn't believe him, then the teen just shrugs, accepting the answer and offering him a set of silverware.

As he glances at the plate of food, he wonders if the next step in this slowly separating them will be separate plates at dinner time. While that'd probably be a good thing because his appetite is coming back, he still isn't looking forward to yet another small intimacy being taken away. He likes having those small things between them.

He doesn't say much as he eats dinner. His mind is too occupied with trying to figure out what Jon's actions mean.

  
Oo-O-oO

Jon's POV  
Something is going on with Alec. He's not sure what, but he knows something is off. For the last few weeks it feels as if his spy is pulling away slowly but surely, stopping all the little ways he tries to be helpful and shows affection. How's he supposed to convince Alec they can work well together if his soulmate is withdrawing?

Following dinner, he unwraps the splints so his soulmate can take a bath, when he’s done asks, "Would you like a hand?" His heart drops at the older man's answer.

"I should be fine," the spy replies distractedly.

He nods, withdrawing to his room, offering, "Call if you need anything."

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he stares blindly at the bathroom door. One of his favorite parts of the day is taking his time washing Alec's hair and back. That's probably going to stop now too. Closing his eyes, he takes a few deep breaths, determined not to show exactly how much the withdrawal is bothering him. Instead he'll take what he can get, which means he should get the stuff out for giving a massage. He's pretty sure that he has some good oils around here somewhere, it's just a matter of remembering where.

That's right, they are in the bottom drawer of his dresser.

Standing, he walks over and kneels down to grab them, smirking as he proves himself right. His pops had given him the oils, said they were for loosening up muscles. He'd used them on himself for his lower back and wrists, they work rather well. He'll let Alec pick which scent to use when the older man is done with his bath.

Once he sets the collection of bottles on his bedside table, he glances around the room trying to figure out something to keep himself from overthinking. Sadly, there isn't a lot to do.

Fine, he'll think about this, he misses the intimacy of washing Alec, the slow glide of his hand and flannel over skin. It's one of his favorite things to do. Maybe the reason his soulmate doesn't want him doing it anymore is he doesn't let Alec see his skin. Maybe after he reveals the fact they are soulmates the spy will let him wash him again. Well, if things go good. That right there is the issue. He's moderately certain they won't.

No matter, he thinks, it is pointless fretting until it happens. All it will do is make him feel like shit. 


	34. Soulmark

Alec’s POV  
Under Pyotr and Lilya’s careful eyes he works on walking between the parallel bars without actually having to use them. When he makes it from one side to the other, he smirks.

“Why are you smirking?” his second inquires curiously.

“Answers,” he answers, carefully pivoting and walking the other direction.

“Answers?” Lilya repeats, “What sort of answers?”

“All those answers that Jon hasn’t given me since waking up, the deal was when I could walk without assistance he’d give them.” He states, answering one of the few people in his life that he is willing to explain his motivation to.

“Don’t overdo it,” his doctor tells him, her voice firm, “I know how much answers are important to you, but don’t risk the bones just to get them.”

Still smirking, because he is quite pleased with this turn of events, he pivots again, this time finishing the distance of the parallel bars and slowly making his way over to the two by Jon’s work table. His limbs ache from lack of use but it’s the type of ache he enjoys because it reminds him he’s alive.

“I’m going to have that discussion with Jon,” he announces, stopping next to them for a minute to catch his breath, this should not be winding him but after so long not as active it is very tiring.

“We’ll leave the wheelchair outside of the bedroom,” she remarks, “Please don’t overdo it,” she repeats, voice concerned as she watches him walk slowly from the room.

He doesn’t acknowledge it, too intent on getting to that door, this apparently going to be one of those step by step tasks. Step one: to their shared bedroom door. Step two: open door and step through it. Step three: close bedroom door and walk over to Jon’s desk. Step four: get answers.

Now he just has to get through each step. Preferably before he gets tired and can’t actually get those answers. Some might say the fact he is going to be so tired when he is done is a sign that now is not the time, but he is not willing to keep waiting. He can’t think of any reason why Jon wanted him able to walk first. But he can, so now he wants those answers.

Making his way to the room is a bit slower than he is used to, but it doesn’t matter because at least he can.

Opening their bedroom door, he slips in, closing it behind him. Part of him wants to lean against the closed door and catch his breath, because that walk was a lot longer than he expected. He doesn’t however because he is worried Jon will see it as him not being able to actually walk. Which really, he is reaching the end of his limit, but he wants answers first, then he’ll give in to tiredness second.

When the door clicks shut and he takes a few steps across the room, Jon pivots in his seat, watching him with startled dark green eyes, almost storm clouds.

Without actually looking away from him, the younger man turns everything off and closes his laptop. Rising, Jon states, “I will return shortly.”

He nods a bit tensely, watching as Jon retreats into the bathroom.

When the water kicks on, he wonders if the teen is taking a shower but before he has a chance to do more than wonder, while he is still debating what to do, the water clicks off.

A minute later the bathroom door opens, and the younger man walks out.

His eyes roam over Jon’s body, taking in the sleek muscles, pale peach skin, and the riot of dark hair. It takes his eyes going over the teen’s body twice before he realizes that the only thing that his roommate is wearing is sleeping bottoms and pants, both low on the teen’s hips. It’s the third look over that has him freezing in place. Running along Jon’s side, taking up most of his torso, is a massive tree. One he is intimately familiar with since he has the exact same one on his right side.

What? Oh. _Oh._

A bit hesitant, because he can still remember James dropping him to his death, he moves closer, left hand coming up to barely brush against the marks. His eyes riveted on the smooth lines. He had wondered why there have been changes to the tree, this explains quite a bit.

“ _Jon_ ,” he whispers, not sure what else to say.

The teen is frozen in place, eyes wide as Jon watches him. Tongue flicking out to wet suddenly dried lips.

“This is why?” he asks, voice still quiet.

“He saw the mark, the one on your side, and remembered mine. You wanted to know why he saved you. That is it.” Jon answers slowly. “Knowing it is the third member of our triad who nearly killed you, I didn’t think you would be happy to know I was your other option for a soulmate.”

It’s almost like lightning striking as he realizes exactly what Jon means. His Jon, and the hacker _is_ his, thought he would walk away.

“Do you want me to?” he asks quietly, knowing that he is not that physically attractive. It’s hard to be attractive when covered with scars and burn marks.

“ _No,”_ Jon hisses, voice nearly unable to be heard, “ _Mine_.”

He smirks, biting back a chuckle at the possessiveness in the hacker’s voice. Actually this explains quite a bit about his time healing, and all of the things he hadn’t got. He definitely doesn’t need to ask for clarification because it makes sense, so much sense.

His left leg nearly gives out and the smaller man quickly catches him, a frown of concentration curving his lips. Snorting, the teen mutters, “Stubborn spy.”

“Yes,” he replies, looping an arm around the slender shoulders, “I wanted answers. That was a longer walk than I expected.”

“Let’s get you on the bed so you will stop stressing that leg,” Jon suggests, twisting them around to make their way back to the bed and help him get situated.


	35. Lucky

Alec's POV  
Settling on the bed, he tugs the smaller down beside and up against him. He likes having Jon close. Even better, now he knows he can have Jon close because the teen _wants_ to be close. It's a wonderful surprise. Normally he doesn't like surprises but he's extremely happy about this one.

"I owe Aither a new laptop," his soulmate, and boy does that send a warm feeling rushing through him, remarks sleepily.

"Why?" He mumbles curiously. That’s a rather random thing for the hacker to say, which actually, maybe it’s not. Some of the times the younger man has soothed him back into rest with words have been completely random, jumping from topic to topic without giving him much time to process what’s being said. Of course, in those cases what’s being said isn’t important, the important part is the soft tone and steady drone that gives him something to focus on besides the pain and lulls him into sleep.

"We had a bet going about it. I was sure that you'd go, she said you'd stay," Jon answers quietly, almost bashfully as if embarrassed.

Instead of responding, he tugs the smaller man closer, giving the smaller man an one armed hug like Jon has done for him on several occasions when he's feeling rather stressed.

He knows he will probably fall asleep quickly, if only because he's exhausted from walking. He doesn't remember learning to walk to be so tiring. Of course, this is the first time he broke both legs at the same time. Along with so many other bones to complicate things further. He’s actually surprised that Jon wants to be around him, most hate his guts within three days of him being injured. Even Raskova has a difficult time dealing with him when he has long term injuries to deal with, and she’s one of the most patient people he knows.

"Go to sleep," he suggests, voice sleepy, "You'll be safe, if someone comes in we'll know."

Shockingly enough, the younger man doesn't argue, instead he crawls under the the blankets, curling around his side, and settling his head on his shoulder.

He closes his eyes, snuggling into the bedding, holding his soulmate close. Jon's his soulmate.

_Jon_. _Is_. _His_. _Soulmate_.

That's nothing he ever expected. Not now, not ever. Jon is also James soulmate. Somehow Jon stayed with him. Jon chose him. No one ever chooses him, yet his hacker _did_.

How did he get so lucky? James tried to kill him, and it led to him ending up with his Jon. What's the chances that nearly dying would lead to him to his second soulmate? He is lucky. Far luckier than he should be considering his history and experiences.

Jonathan Valentinovich Markov. Well, if he has a mostly Russian name, which his surname is Russian, so he is guessing the teen's middle name is too. His soulmate. Even more than that, Jon actually wants him. The thought is boggling. Unexpected.

He never expected Jon to chose him permanently. Never expected to be Jon's soulmate, spent the last few weeks wanting to give the hacker a reason to want him around until one of the younger man’s soulmate’s came along never realizing he was one of them. It explains why he is drawn to the smaller man.

The teen just turned eighteen, that makes them thirteen years apart. Only it seems like so much more. He feels like he's covered in scars in comparison to the younger man, like his body’s pretty much ruined. He's been stabbed, shot, tortured, and burned. His body is not as good looking as it was when he first became an agent. After two and half months of being unable to walk and three weeks of physical therapy, he's out of shape, as much as he hates to admit it. The fact he gets exhausted so easily proves it. He's sure the government claimed all his money when he 'died', same with his houses, at least those that Pyotr and Dayesi don't keep track of. So it's not like he has a lot to offer.

Yet Jon thought he would leave. That still doesn't make sense to him. Why would he leave? What was it Jon said? He's having a hard time remembering, mostly because he was so focused on the soulmarks covering the younger man's skin that he missed most of what came out of his mouth following that revelation.

Something about James, he knows that much. Actually, he should just ask. Maybe now that he knows the motivation, and he's sort of walking, well, when not exhausting himself, Jon will actually answer. That'd be good. Answers are very good. He can also remember the teen saying something about his bank account, but at the time he was hurting too much to focus. So what was it? Damn it, finding out the answer to why was supposed to let him understand. Which it did. It just happen to open up even more questions too.

"You should be sleeping more than me," the teen mumbles against his shoulder, hot breath fanning against the side of his neck. “You're thinking hard enough it woke me up."

Chuckling, because he has a feeling that's not actually what woke Jon up, he replies quietly, "Sorry, go back to sleep."

The teen mumbles something else, or maybe just makes sleepy noises, they’re too soft for him to say for sure, as the younger man drifts back to sleep.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on the fact the younger man is curled up along his side, rather than him being the one curled up. It's a nice feeling. A far cry different from what he had shared with James. Something tells him close to everything about his relationship with Jon is going to be different in one way or another. That's not a bad thing, just something he’ll have to adapt to. It’s a really good thing he's always been adaptable, he thinks as the exhaustion from pushing himself a bit too far too fast hits, and a moment later he joins his soulmate in sleep.


	36. Mine

Jon's POV  
He's working on his laptop when he hears the bedroom door open. Even before he spins the chair to look at who just entered, he knows it is Alec from his slow movements. So he walked here.

I don't want to do this, he thinks before reminding himself he made a promise. He keeps those.

Sure enough, it's Alec standing just a few steps inside their door. Blindly, he shuts his computer down, trying not to panic as his worse fear draws nearer. Standing, he's proud of how calm his voice is when he states, "I will return shortly."

Heading in the bathroom, he leans against the door once it is closed for a long moment. It's time for the reveal. Now how to do it? Well, he thinks as he looks around, a very quick shower and put only his sleeping bottoms on, then step out in the bedroom. He doesn't have to say a word until after Alec leaves. He's not sure he'll be able to speak without his voice giving away his emotional turmoil.

Turning the water on, he quickly strips as the bathroom fills with steam. It hides the fact he's crying silently, by making all of him wet and red. He turns it off once he has himself mostly under control. Quickly drying off and pulling on his clothes. He almost reaches for his night shirt but stops himself. It would just prolong this. Prolonging it is not a good idea.

Squaring his shoulders, he steps out of the bathroom, keeping his head up and meeting Alec's eyes dead on as he waits for the realization to hit.

Only his soulmate surprises him, he doesn't leave like he expects. Instead the spy steps closer, eyes glued to the skin of his torso, roving over him just to return to the massive soulmark tree.

He freezes in place, not sure what to do, as calloused fingers just barely brush across the tree, sending lightning zinging through his body.

_"Jon,"_ Alec whispers, voice nearly broken.

Why would his spy's voice be nearly broken? Realization hits and he wets his suddenly dry lips. Alec's not leaving. Why isn't the agent leaving? Is he actually planning to stay? That seems impossible. Yet. . . .

"This is why?" the taller man asks, voice achingly gentle.

Forcing himself to stay calm, he answers honestly, "He saw the mark," he motions to the matching tree, "the one on your side, and remembered mine." That still boggles his mind. "You wanted to know why he saved you. That is it." He swallows hard, "Knowing it is the third member of our triad who nearly killed you," he has to take a deep breath and force the panic away, "I didn't think you would be happy to know I was your other option for a soulmate."

Several moments pass in silence. He realizes that Alec has to comprehend what he is saying, but it's still hard waiting for the older man to walk out. He feels almost as terrified as when Reid told him that his father was found and coming for him.

Finally, after what seems like forever, "Do you want me to?" Alec asks softly, fear and uncertainty in his tone.

Why is his spy afraid? He shouldn't be afraid. Wait. Alec wants to stay? Is that what the older man is implying? That means...

_"No,"_ he just about hisses in response, _"Mine."_

He's surprised by the way the older man's lips curve in a smirk, relief filling dark green eyes.

He sees the signs of Alec's leg giving out long before the older man starts to go down. He catches his soulmate with practice born of weeks working together, barely jarring the older man's body as he takes Alec's weight without dropping him. Most would be startled by exactly how much he can lift or catch when he puts his mind to it.

Snorting, because of course his soulmate pushed himself too far, he mutters, "Stubborn spy."

"Yes," the older man replies unrepentantly, arm awkwardly coming around his shoulder as the older man tries to straighten himself out. "I wanted answers. That was a longer walk than I expected."

Biting back a smile, because he doesn't want to encourage this sort of behavior, he suggests, "Let's get you on the bed so you will stop stressing that leg," referring to the one still working right.

With practiced ease, he pivots them to return to the bed, carefully moving so Alec can keep up without any problems. Once the taller man is situated, he's startled by the firm grasp around his wrist just before he is pulled down next to his soulmate.

Blinking, because he's not normally that easy to trick, he mutters, "I owe Aither a new laptop," rather than comment on that stunt.

"Why?" The older man queries, voice low and sleepy.

Sighing, he answers slowly, "We had a bet going." He wants to stop speaking, but promised to be honest, if only to himself. "I was sure you'd go, she said you'd stay."

Alec pulls him closer, tucking him along the taller man's side, head against a firm shoulder. "Go to sleep," his soulmate mumbles, "You'll be safe, if someone comes in we'll know."

He considers arguing, but decides to snuggle closer. He feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. Exhaustion rushes through him. For the last few months he hasn't really been sleeping. Hard to sleep when every move and noise out of his soulmate would wake him. Now it's all catching up to him at once. He is surprisingly comfortable curled up against Alec's firm side. Normally it is Alec wrapped around him, so it is nice, and a little odd to be the one being cuddled. He's still amazed that his soulmate stayed. That his spy wants him. At least he is pretty sure that's what the firm arm around his shoulder, and the fact Alec hasn't let go means. It's amazing, surprising, but amazing. He should tell Aither immediately.

Yet. . .

He can't seem to open his eyes or move. His body feels like he's weighted down. He's very comfortable. Surprisingly comfortable. He's also warm. Why is he warm? Shouldn't he be sort of cold? He's normally cold. He's only wearing pajama bottoms. Why isn't he cold? Wiggling a little bit, he realizes that there is blanket over him. When? Must have been Alec, but why? Oh. That's right, his soulmate knows now.

Yet. . .

_Alec stayed._

No one ever stays with him. His parents vanished just before his sixteenth birthday. His father forgets he's here so often, even though Valentin says he cares it doesn't feel like it. Hell, he's still surprised Valentin remembered his soulmark and saved Alec. What's the chances of that?

According to how tense his soulmate is, the older man is still awake and thinking.

"You should be sleeping more than me," he mutters, wiggling a little closer, enjoying the way Alec’s shoulder feels beneath his cheek. "You're thinking hard enough it woke me up."

Actually it was probably his own thinking that woke him up. He'll still blame it on Alec's cause he needs his soulmate to rest and that doesn't happen if the older man is thinking too much.

Chuckling, "Sorry," the tall man murmurs, hand gently stroking down his back, "go back to sleep."

He smiles, enjoying the way Alec’s hand strokes down his spine.

Slowly he drifts back off to sleep, maybe in the morning his soulmate will change his mind, but for the first time in months he feels like he belongs somewhere. He just hopes that isn't ripped away from him. It'd be nice to belong again.


	37. Regrets

Valentin's POV  
Ivan thinks he's ashamed of him? How could his son think he is ashamed of him? There is no way he is ashamed of his son. Ivan is more than he ever expected. How could he have such wonderful son? Ivan is highly intelligent, caring, loyal beyond belief, fiercely protective, a fast learner, everything he could have ever asked for in a son. Yet somehow Ivan doesn't realize it.

Why?

Taking a deep breath, he considers how the last year has been. He's rarely home, which is not really unusual. He hasn't seen his triad much lately either. Actually, Katya commented on that the last time they had dinner, over a month ago. Has it really been that long since he spent an evening with them?

It's also been that long since Ivan told him he felt like an embarrassment. Where did all the time go? Was he this bad when she was here? Is that part of why his soulmate and first love of his life left? Because she felt unwanted, unneeded?

Closing his eyes, he takes another deep breath. No. Yes. Maybe. He'll never actually know. Not that she could answer that nowadays, she's dead, he's fairly sure of that because their mark faded just weeks before he learned of Vanya. The only reason there is anything on his skin is he had it tattooed on, just above where it had been before her passing. What he does know is he needs to fix this, and immediately. Ivan should never feel like that. His son is the most perfect part of his life. He wasn't lying when he told Vanyai that.

Maybe he needs to cut back on working. He owns the houses, easily makes the taxes and money needed to survive. Due to a few good investments he has the money to retire should he want to.

Ivan...

What is he going to do about his son? Vanya is an adult, able to leave whenever his son wants. Unlike him, the younger man has a nice trust, the funds to survive and the ability to make more. He's well aware that Ivan makes money with his computer that the solicitor handles since for a long time his son was underage. Now, well, now Vanyai has a soulmate who is known to be well off.

He's aware that Vanya worries that Aleksei will leave but he saw the way the crime lord looks at his son. The only way Janus is leaving is if Ivan wants him to. This without knowing they're soulmates. He's sure that information will increase the possessiveness he's seen in Aleksei's eyes. His son in law is in charge of one of the biggest syndicates in the country, he's not sure how he feels about that.

He should make a list, he thinks, glancing about the room. Write down what he needs to do and start doing it.

Standing up, he heads to his office, he's sure he will find what he needs there. He's surprised to see that the rehab room is open, and that Aleksei's two associates are leaving. The man makes him more nervous than the woman. She's a doctor, so they have professional courtesy between them, the man though, not so much.

"Doctor Markov," she greets him politely as she pushes the empty wheelchair to the door to his son's room. Since Janus isn't in it, he can assume that the crime lord must have walked to the bedroom, so today is the day Ivan tells him about the soulmarks.

"Doctor Raskova," he replies with a small smile and a nod towards her companion before continuing on. Entering his office, he takes a seat, grabs what he needs for writing, and proceeds to make that list.

What needs to go on this list? His son Ivan, his triad family, work a little less, spend more time with them. He's quite sure that Vanyai is right. So far his son is right quite often on big things, except to when it comes to himself, then his son seems to get it wrong.

Once he has the list made, he reaches for the phone, calling the triad home that he rarely visits, let alone spends the night at.

_'Hello?'_ Katya greets him.

"Katya, good afternoon," he replies softly, not really sure what to say.

_'Valya?'_ His wife murmurs, _'Is something wrong? You don't normally call unless something is wrong or you need to cancel for dinner but dinners not until next week.'_

He flinches, bothered by the implications behind that statement, "Nothings wrong, I just," he searches for the right words, "I just wanted to know if it would be alright to bring Ivan with me next week?"

_'Ivan?'_ She repeats slowly, ' _You are talking about your son, yes?'_

"Yes," he confirms.

_'That would be wonderful! I thought maybe he didn't wish to meet us,'_ she exclaims happily and he flinches again. It's a good thing no one else is in here or he'd be embarrassed.

Apparently he has failed most majorly. Now how is he to fix this? He's almost panicking when he realizes that she's still talking and has to apologize for missing some of what she has to say. How can he do so well as a doctor yet fail with his family so very much? Despite his errors and lack of attention, they manage to make arrangements for dinner the following week. He can bring Ivan with him so that his triad family may meet the son he had with his soulmate.

Now he just needs to tell his son.

Standing, he turns towards the door. He has just opened it when he remembers the fact Aleksei walked to the bedroom, at least, judging by the fact Doctor Raskova had the wheelchair when he had passed her in the hall on his way to the office. That means they are currently discussing the fact they are soulmates. After the mess he has made of his relationships, he doesn't wish to interfere and risk making things bad between them. He's well aware of how much they care for each other, even if they don't seem to realize it.

Returning to his desk, he just about collapses in his seat. There are a lot of things he regrets in his life. Maybe, instead of trying to avoid thinking about them, he needs to start dealing with them. See if he can’t make it a smaller list of things he regrets. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath to calm himself.


	38. Early Symptoms

Jon's POV  
He's slow to wake, comfortable and warm. It takes him longer than he likes to remember the previous night, or was it earlier today? Either way, it's the same result. Alec walked into the bedroom, he showed his soulmate the soulmarks. Then the unexpected happened: _Alec stayed_.

Opening his eyes, he tips his head up and smiles slowly.

"Morning," his soulmate murmurs softly.

"Hi," he answers in Scottish Gaelic, not realizing he switched languages until after, at which point he blushes. Why is he nervous? Oh yes, he hadn't planned for things to go right, only for them to go wrong.

"Try breathing," Alec suggests, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

He blinks, a small huff of laughter escaping, of course he's breathing, he's never forgot to breathe.

"There you go," the spy responds in amusement.

"I never not breath," he replies.

A knock at his door draws his attention, and he turns his head slightly, looking towards it, and noticing the clock. It's only been three hours. It feels like it's been so much longer. So that may be Svetlana with dinner. Stretching, he rolls off the bed, walking past the dresser he grabs a shirt out of the top drawer, one of his rare tee-shirts to pull over his head.

Opening the door, "Hello," he comments.

The housekeeper blinks at him in shock, eyes darting over his thin shirt and back up again. "Dinner is nearly done, Gregor wished to know if vegetarian dinner is acceptable?"

Turning slightly towards the bed, "Do you mind a vegetarian dinner?"

Alec shrugs nonchalantly.

"That'll be fine," he tells her with a smile. "Some tea and coffee would be great."

She nods, turning and leaving.

Closing the door, he leans against it and just stares blankly forward. Alec's in his bed and knows that they are soulmates and stayed.

"Jon?" the older man queries softly, sitting up slowly.

Giving a small shake of his head , he smiles, "I'm fine, just a bit shocked."

"I gathered that," Alec replies.

He shrugs as he comments, "I think she's a bit shocked to see one of my tee-shirts out. I think the last time I wore any of them is when I first showed up. Even then I only wore them inside cause I get cold easily." Pausing, he looks around before muttering, "Actually cold right now."

He considers getting changed, but doesn't want to get dressed again. Maybe he can just pull a long sleeve on over the tee-shirt, only that always feels weird with his pajamas. He can always take the long sleeve in the bathroom to put it on, but why would he do that? It's not like he has to hide the soulmarks any more.

Actually, he needs to speak with Aither. So, long sleeve, bathroom, Aither, dinner.

Another knock at the door startles him, and he jerks upright to glance about. It's been years since he got lost in his head like that. Well, actually, being honest the last time he had lost time was right after his parents went missing, but before Valentin was found.

Shaking his head, he realizes he needs to trim his own hair before he steps away from the door and opens it, on the other side is Dmitri with the tray. Why's Dmitri here? The toffee blonde was here this morning. Wait. Was that today or yesterday? Damn it, he really hates when he has these sort of episodes. They last from three to five days normally. It's going to be a long week. Well shit. Why this now? Things are going right. At least, he thinks they are.

"Sir?" there is something in the PA's voice that brings him back to himself again.

"Thanks," he replies, taking the tray and closing the door. Again he shakes head. "Sorry, I'm going to be spacy for a few days. It happens sometimes."

Alec nods slowly, a thoughtful look on his face. "Alright," his soulmate agrees.

"It's not common, but every now and again my ability to focus goes out the window." He mumbles as he walks over to the bed with the tray. He stops without setting it down, head cocked to the side as he thinks about it and mutters, "Every time is followed by me getting sick for twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Well shit."

It looks like the older man is trying not to chuckle when he is able to get his focus back on dinner.

Ruefully smiling, he sits down with the tray, settling it between them like he has done so many other meals. He relaxes as they eat dinner, sharing a plate the way they have since the first day Alec was awake. Gregor must be in the mood for Indian lately, because this is the sixth dish in the last two weeks from the culture. That's alright though, he likes Indian food, and none of it falls on Alec's short allergy list so that works too.

"Vegetarian Korma," he states absently when he thinks of the name. "Dunno why Gregor has been cooking Indian lately, but I'm liking it."

"So it's not usual for him to cook like this?" his soulmate queries, glancing between him and their plate.

"Not normally, no. He tends to stick to Russian, German, and British food." He replies, spearing a piece of pepper to eat.

The spy nods before picking another piece to eat.

The rest of dinner goes much the same, they chat about whatever comes to mind, but spend more time in silence than talking. It's a comfortable sort of silence, almost relaxing. Not long after they are done, a sharp knock at the door has him calling out a greeting, mostly because he's feeling a bit dizzy and isn't standing if he doesn't have to.

Dmitri opens the door, hesitantly coming in to collect the tray. As his assistant is leaving, his father knocks once and enters.

"Do you have a moment, Ivan?" Valentin queries.

It takes him a minute to process the words before he nods, slipping off the bed in ease and walking over to the door. They've just stepped out of it when he realizes he's cold. Why's he cold? He shouldn't be cold. Wait, he never did get around to putting a long sleeve on, it's past his birthday and they live in the Northern Hemisphere, of course he's cold.

"Everything alright?" he immediately asks, it's not often that his father wishes to have a word with him, normally when he does, it's because he has a patient to go deal with and won't be around a few days. Those conversations generally start with 'I've been called...' not 'Do you have a moment?', he thinks as he watches the older man.

"What? Yes, of course, it's just," his father takes a deep breath as if steadying himself, "I've made arrangements for us to have dinner with my triad next week."

Startled, he finds himself blinking rapidly as he processes that information, "That's good."

"Do you think Aleksei will be fine on his own for the evening?" Valentin asks hesitantly.

"I can ask one of his three to stick around and visit," he answers truthfully. "I don't want him stressing his limbs out while they are still healing."

His father nods in agreement, "Very well. Dinner is next Thursday at seven pm."

It's his turn to nod in agreement, "Alright."

For a moment, it looks like Valentin is going to say something more, instead the his father just awkwardly pats his arm before walking away.

Sighing, he rubs his hand across the back of his neck before going back in his room.

"You look like you're more tired than me right now," Alec comments as he closes the door.

Shrugging, he walks over the bed and just about sprawls the way he would if he was alone, only to remember he's not after accidently smacking into one of the broken ribs.

Jerking upright, he's quick to apologize but his soulmate just waves it off, a small smile playing across his lips.

"I was beginning to wonder if you really are a teenager, you seem much more coordinated than most of the teens I've met," his spy remarks off-handedly.

"Lots of practice and bluffing," he mutters as he buries his face in a pillow. "And math. Can't forget the math."

He's just about asleep when he jerks upright, remembering he needs to speak with Aither.

Apparently Alec was asleep, because when the spy sits up, his hand darts out and manages to open the drawer to pull his knife out in one smooth motion.

"Sorry," he mumbles, getting out of the bed to move over to his desk.

"It's alright, I'm sorry, go back to sleep," he tells Alec gently, focus on his computer rather than his soulmate.

"What are you doing?" his spy asks.

"I need to speak with Aither," he answers as he fires the laptop up. "Or at least shoot her a message about what's going on right now. I think she might yell at me a bit for overdoing it."

He's so focused on his laptop, that he's surprised when Alec gets off the bed, slowly making his way over only to shut the laptop. He just barely gets his hands out of the way in time to keep his fingers from getting pinched.

"Come to bed," his spy tells him, hands lightly grabbing the top of his arms and tugging him towards the bed. "You're exhausted."

"I'm fine," he denies, even though he knows it's probably true. He's never been a big sleeper, and lately he's been sleeping even less than normal.

"Bullshit," his soulmate tells him, "You need sleep. I can see it. Not sure how I didn't see it before."

Sighing, he gets up because he knows Alec isn't going to let him just work on the laptop.

"When I have a goal it's so much easier to go, go, go." He replies slowly, looking at his soulmate's shoulder instead of face. "I had a goal, keeping you healthy and safe. Taking care of you until you could walk. I didn't expect you to stay. ‘Cause of that my mind's not sure what to do."

"You should catch up on your sleep." The tall spy answers, "We can talk about it tomorrow."

He studies Alec, surprised by honesty in the older man's vivid green eyes. There is something more is those beautiful eyes that he's having a hard time understanding, he will have to figure it out later, when he’s not exhausted.

"You sit down or lay down first," he suggests, wanting to make sure his soulmate can do so safely.

"Bathroom, then bed," the older man replies.

So he watches as Alec walks to the bathroom slowly, a few minutes pass with him zoning before his spy comes back and settles on the bed, but doesn't get comfortable. He smiles, joining his soulmate on the bed. A moment later he chuckles as he finds himself as the small spoon. That's only slightly surprising, more so that it's taken so long to happen than anything.

"Go to sleep," his spy quietly orders him, "Sleep well."

"You too, Alec," he responds, body relaxing faster than expected.


	39. Sick

Jon's POV  
Of course, now that he has an actual date to meet the rest of his father's triad, his body decides to betray him. Those flighty moments get worse, more than that, he actually starts sneezing, having stuffy sinuses, and coughing whenever he attempts to lay down. Since Alec's still healing, he is determined not to share his cold, and tries to keep away whenever possible, letting Raskova, Bogdan, and Dmitri help more than he normally would. The first two don't realize this is odd, probably because they don't know him, but after working for him for the last few months, Dmitri realizes it. His assistant even tries asking if something is wrong, though he mostly ignores the toffee blonde until the older man gives up and goes away.

Alec on the other hand, seems determined to spend as much time around him as possible. How's he supposed to make sure his soulmate, who's still recovering from a multitude of broken bones and minor burns, doesn't get sick if the older man _won't_ stay away?

The day of the dinner he wakes up feeling almost decent, but it's not to last. By lunch time, while his spy is working in the rehab room, he curls himself under the hot spray of his shower, hoping the steam will clear his sinuses just long enough for him to feel better. He doesn't come out until the water starts to turn cold, and by then, his sinuses aren't the only problem. Despite dressing as quickly as possible and under as many layers as he can possibly wear, he starts shivering.

"Damn it," he mutters in Scottish Gaelic as he leaves the bathroom, "Why'd I have to get sick _now_?"

"That's just how life is?" his soulmate queries from the bed, startling him, because he was sure the older man was still in the rehab room. "Do you want me to get Markov or Raskova?"

He shakes his head, and instantly regrets it as the world starts spinning. "No. I'll be-" he doesn't get to finish the sentence because he starts sneezing hard and repeatedly.

Green-blue eyes narrow on him as the taller man carefully gets out of bed. Lately, Alec has taken to leaving the splints off his legs, and has surprised him by not overdoing it. "That's it, I'm getting one of the doctors."

"I'll be fine," he manages to wheeze out as the sneezing becomes coughing.

Firm hands take hold of his shoulders and turn him towards the bed, guiding him to sit down.

He goes without argument, maybe a nap would be good. Except he's supposed to be taking care of Alec, not the other way around. He's in the middle of considering trying to get up when he finds the blankets suddenly pulled up over him. When did he lay down? He doesn't remember laying down. A moment later he stops thinking as he drifts off to sleep.

Oo-O-oO

Alec's POV  
Over the last week he has watched as Jon went from hyper focused on everything, attention jumping fully without any problems between topics. Often going from caring for him to doing whatever the hacker does on the computer and back again as needed to barely there. More than that, each day it seems as if the teen is sleeping more and more. While it gives him a chance to consider his situation, namely the part where Jon's his _soulmate_ , he doesn't like it.

He'd rather that he gets to think about it while the teen is on the laptop rather than because the teen is sick. He's never really been good with sick people, and luckily, neither James nor him seemed inclined to get sick often.

So he cuts his PT short, deciding he wants to check on Jon, because it's odd that the younger man leaves him completely alone, even when the other three are here.

Carefully making his way back to the room with Raskova pushing the wheelchair beside him incase he wants to sit down, which seriously it's not that far now that he is getting in the practice again. He's startled to find Jon still in the shower according to the sound of the running water. A few minutes later the younger man emerges, shivering violently, face puffy, nose vibrant red, and eyes bloodshot.

Damn, he thinks, I've seen folks go through being tortured and look better than this.

He has to bite back a chuckle when he hears the teen muttering, "Why'd I have to get sick now?"

"That's just how life is?" he responds with a small smile. Fear jolts through him when the younger man tries glaring at him, eyes watering as the teen's chest heaves and fails to take in needed amount of air. "Do you want me to get Markov or Raskova?" He only offers to get Markov because that's Jon's father, he'd really prefer to get Lidiya, he knows and trusts her far more.

"No." The hacker answers starting to shake his head, "I'll be-" a violent sneezing fit which leads into a rasping and coughing fit keeps the younger man from finishing that sentence.

Getting off the bed he had settled on, he mutters, "That's it, I'm getting one of the doctors," meaning he is getting Raskova right now because he really doesn't like the fact Jon seems to be getting worse right before his eyes and not slowly either.

"I'll be fine," his soulmate manages to get out between harsh coughs.

Narrowing his eyes at the stubborn teen, he decides to put Jon in bed, then get the doctors. He knows nothing about taking care of sick people. His normal method is bolting and letting one of the others deal with sick people. Minions know better than to bother him while sick. Bogdan and Dayesi are a lot like him, rarely getting sick and both go straight to Raskova if they do get sick.

Once he has his hacker all snuggled up beneath the blankets, he leaves the bedroom, glancing about to see if he can see someone else. The first person he comes across is the housekeeper, who stops and blinks at him owlishly before practically beaming at him.

"What can I do for you, Aleksei?" for some reason she insists on being familiar with him. If he hadn't noticed she does it with everyone in the household it'd bother him, except the only people she calls by their formal, or at least not familiar names, are those visiting.

He leaves the door open so the doctor can come in, and considers using the phone to call Raskova anyways. He's still debating it when Markov comes in the room, small black medical bag with him.

The older man ignores him after a cursory glance, instead going over to his son to try and talk the smaller man out of the bedding long enough to take his temperature, check his other symptoms, and get some cold medicine in him. It's definitely not an easy process since Jon doesn't actually want to come out of his warm cocoon or take the medication. It makes him wonder how often the teen get's sick.

Sighing, the doctor puts his things away and stands up. "If he's anything like his mother, then Jon will be sick for one or two days before being back on his feet like nothing ever happened."

So the teen hasn't been sick since coming here, he thinks. Nodding, he settles back on the other side of the bed after picking one of the books off the shelves. He doesn't think he will get too much reading in, his mind's too busy processing the fact the teen who has been taking care of him since James tried killing him is his soulmate that expected him to leave. Why did the hacker think he would leave? Jon had said something about James trying to kill him, but that doesn't make sense. Unless the younger man thought he would hold their other soulmates actions against him? That could be it. However he has no reason to do that. After all, Jon wasn't part of the plan, didn't even know who he was prior to him getting dropped off the satellite.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath as the memory of James dropping him washes through him once more. James hadn't answered when he tried using the code. When he fell, he had hoped it would kill him. Instead he remembers the blinding pain, the sickening crunch of his bones. The agony as hands dragged him off the dish and into the relative safety of the nearby forest. He has no clue how the doctor and whoever helped carry him had managed to avoid getting caught by James' reinforcements, he knows that his storm must have had some, yet they managed to get away and get to the safety of the escape boat. He doesn't really remember the trip, too much pain, his nerves alternating between feeling like they're on fire or lightning is coursing through him. He vaguely remembers cool hands and gentle words as the pain doubled and even tripled, something he hadn't thought possible. Then he had been blissfully knocked out. The next time he woke, his body was a dull ache compared to what it had been and he met Jon.

A soft whimper draws him out of his mind, setting the book aside, he asks, "What do you need?"

Only the teen doesn't answer, just whimpers again, soft little noises that feel like a sucker punch.

A soft knock draws his attention as the housekeeper comes bustling in with a steaming cup of coffee for him according to the scent, and a pot of lemon mint tea for Jon. She carefully sets the tray down before grabbing the candle warmer base from beside the laptop and bringing it over to the bedside. Since he's seen Jon use it as a pot warmer, he gets the principle even before she tells him.

"Make sure he drinks lots of fluids, he should have at least one cup every hour to keep from getting dehydrated. If I thought you'd be successful getting him to drink water, I'd bring that too, but he doesn't like straight water. I’m not sure on his opinion of seltzer, but there is a bottle for him." She tells him seriously, making sure everything is going to be easy for him to reach and grab. He also notices that both mugs have the bigger handles, the ones used for him while wearing the splints.

He nods in understanding, not sure why she is sure he will have better success, but willing to try.

Since he woke up the one constant in his life is Jon. The teen is always there. Hazel eyes shifting with mood between green, amber, brown, gray and mixed coloring. Actually, the younger man's eyes are the only reason he notices mood changes most the time. The teen is good at a blank expression most the time, one that those not trained to look for clues would fool most. Why is Jon like that? He wonders curiously,

While recovering from his injuries, he often wondered why the teen was so open with him about his life, even if he managed not to give any important information away. Discovering they're soulmates had explained so very much. Including the protective instincts and even in part the loyalty the younger man had shown unexpectedly.

Forcing himself out of his head, he presses a gentle kiss to sweat wet black curls. "Jon, you need to drink some of this tea," he tells the smaller man.

"Don't want to," he eventually hears muffled by the bedding.

Snickering, he pours the tea, adding sugar the way he's absently seen the teen do thousands of times and nudging the younger man again. "Come on, drink the tea and you can go back to sleep."

Grumbling, the teen emerges from beneath the blankets, trying to glare and failing miserably because he looks too pathetic for the expression to work currently. With shaking hands, Jon accepts the cup, managing to drink all of it without spilling any before escaping back under the blankets.

He smiles at the pile of fluff, surprising himself by the fact he is excited to get a chance to take care of Jon. Now hopefully the teen heals fast, because he has no clue how long that feeling is actually going to last.

Oo-O-oO

Jon's POV  
He's sick for forty-eight hours, during which time Alec surprises him by caring for him through it. Needless to say, he doesn't make that dinner with his father's triad much to his annoyance, but at least his soulmate is there. Even if there is a smaller part of him that doesn't like the spy seeing him like this.


	40. Preparing for Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interesting Tidbit: Russian Christmas is January 7th, rather than December 25th, a little detail I didn't know until I started writing.

Jon's POV  
Four months following his father bringing his soulmate home, he finds himself in the unique position of having people to buy Christmas presents for. It's not that he hasn't had people to buy them for in the past, only that he hasn't really had anyone to get gifts for since his mum and her triad vanished. Since he's not on friendly terms with the cousins, he isn't wasting any of his time or money on them, though he does send some of the younger ones who don't know him all that well gift cards, quite sure by the time they hit their teens he'll stop because he doesn't want to deal with them. Well, if he's being honest he has Reid send the gift cards. Reid gets a bonus at Christmas time, even though his solicitor swears it's not necessary.

Alec's to a point where he doesn't require someone around all the time. Though the fact his soulmate stayed still amazes him. There are nights he wakes up just to watch the older man sleeping, a warm feeling starting low in his belly and spreading through the rest of him.

They've spent the weeks since he showed his spy the soulmark getting to know each other. Slowly getting a feel for the other's personality and traits. Of course, he has an advantage in the form of his hacking skills. Another advantage in the fact his dad drilled how to leave minimum to little memory of himself in others and how to pass through places without leaving a trail behind. He's pretty sure that Dayesi tried finding more on him, but has faith in his talents of vanishing, particularly considering the way she glared at him, while Alec just laughed for several different visits.

So on December first, after Alec has finished his physical therapy for the day, gotten a shower, and sprawled on their bed, he turns away from the laptop and asks, "Will you be alright on your own for a few hours this weekend?"

Alec blinks at him for a long minute, before asking, "Why?"

"It's the first of December, this weekend is the fifth and sixth, I need to go Christmas shopping." He answers, "I mean, technically I could send Dmitri to do the shopping for me, but I prefer to do my own shopping."

Curiously, his soulmate queries, "Are you Christian?"

"Nope," he replies, popping the 'p' sound, "But my parents considered it a celebration of family."

Alec nods in understanding, looking at him speculatively, "When you say parents, you're not including Valentin and his triad are you?"

He shakes his head, "As you know, I haven't actually met Valentin's triad and other family yet, things keep going wrong." He shrugs, "My parents will always be mum, pops, and da."

Again his soulmate nods in understanding.

Tipping his head, he realizes something he should probably ask, "Do you celebrate Christmas?"

A wistful expression flashes through his soulmate's vibrant eyes, "We used to exchange favorite alcohols. Sometimes, if not on assignment, spend the day in bed together. Neither of us had other family, so we made it how we wanted it."

Standing, he quickly crosses the room to snuggle down beside his spy, giving a quick hug.

Alec's head settles against the top of his, "Go shop, have fun, try not to be so serious about it."

Chuckling, he queries, "And what will you do while I'm doing that?"

"Go over paper work with Bogdan probably," the older man answers with a half shrug he feels rather than sees.

They end up taking a nap before dinner.

The rest of the week goes much the same. Mornings are spent with physical therapy, afternoons relaxing, often times he makes it a point to rub any stiffness from Alec’s limbs. They get their own little pattern set up, his spy still sleeps more than him, but it’s less now that his soulmate is getting stronger.

Saturday morning finds him up before Alec, not that that's much of a surprise, he often is up first. Except for when he is sick, he sleeps less than most folks, his soulmate included apparently.

He spends a few minutes watching the older man sleeping, thinking that his soulmate looks so much younger when not in a lot of pain and asleep.

"Why do you like watching me sleep?" Alec eventually mumbles as he wakes up, just minutes before Svetlana knocks on the door with their morning coffee and tea.

Grinning, he answers as he gets up to get the door, "I like drawing, and I can't draw what I don't know."

Snorting, his spy stretches in bed, groaning softly when his back pops before he sits up. "Some reason, I'm sure there's more to it than that."

"Thank you," he tells the housekeeper as she carries the tray in, surprising him with the fact their breakfast is already on it as well. Normally she does that with a second tray.

"You're welcome," she replies merrily, informing him, "I'll be decorating the downstairs. Everything but the tree today,"

Well that explains why she has been in deep clean mode, even giving Dmitri tasks every time she spots him. Which is perfectly fine since he hasn't really needed his assistance as much since Alec started walking.

"Why not the tree?" he queries curiously.

"We don't have one, or the decorations for it. In the past the doctor has barely decorated except a little bit here and there, and returns to the triad home New Year’s Eve through Christmas." She answers blithely, not noticing the turmoil she caused. "Last year was a bit odd, he had that case he dealt with for most of December and January. I was sure he'd make arrangements for you, which is why we were so shocked when we got back from our week off to discover none had been made."

He flashes a smile, insincere as all hell, and tells her, "It's all right, I wasn't exactly the best company for the holiday season."

"Nonsense. Family should be with family, which is where I thought you'd be, with your family here if not returning to England for any remaining family there. You're too quiet sometimes, good at making yourself fade into the background." She retorts fondly, "I don't think that's going to happen this year. For one thing, Valentin has already decided the only cases he is dealing with are life and death. For another, he asked me to start actually decorating and even made noises about maybe a tree."

He just blinks at her, not really sure if he should respond to all that or not.

Smiling at him warmly, she finishes with, "I'm going to go dig the decorations out, and maybe see if I need to make a run to the store to get more or not. I know I'll need to get some for the tree. Actually, need to get a tree too."

"I'm going out for a bit, would you like me to get a tree and decorations while I do so?" he offers, maybe it will make this place feel more homelike, though he doubts it. Valentin has been trying, more so since he asked if he is an embarrassment.

She blinks at him for a moment before practically beaming at him, "That would be perfect! I can get the household funds for-"

He cuts her off before she finishes that statement, "No need."

Tipping her head sideways she asks, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he reassures her, "I don't really use my allowance, so it's built up nicely over the last few years."

She looks like she wants to argue with him but eventually comments, “I'm going to start in the front lounge,” before walking away.

Closing the door, he walks over to the bed, settling down next to Alec in order to share the tray.

His soulmate looks a bit lost in thought, so he nudges him with his elbow lightly, drawing the older man's attention to the tray.

"Since when does she put breakfast and drinks on one tray?" Alec queries curiously.

"Since she's planning on decorating," he answers picking up the tea to take a sip and happy it's still warm. "She'll probably check on you while I'm out of the house today."

Snickering, his spy just shakes his head.

Breakfast goes quick enough, and it's not long before Svetlana is showing Doctor Raskova and Bogdan to the front lounge, then coming to tell them that she did so. She's even nice enough to take the now cleared tray and dishes with her.

Smiling at Alec, he gives the spy a quick half-hug, suggesting, "Why don't you go visit with them? I'll pop in to say bye before I go."

His soulmate nods, carefully getting to his feet, "All right."

Once Alec is gone, he spends a few moments perched on the edge of the bed just breathing, before he pushes those thoughts aside and gets to his feet. He has a relatively small amount of time to do what he wants to do. Best get to it sooner than later. After a quick shower, during which he pointedly ignores his soulmarks since those can be very distracting, he quickly dresses for a trip out of the house. He is on his way to the front lounge when he realizes exactly how long it's been since he last left the house. No matter, it's not going to change anything.

His chat with the four in the living room, because Dayesi joined them at some point after he started his shower, is quick and to the point. He doesn't like feeling outnumbered, so he makes sure all four are always in line of sight, even though he's moderately sure the two spies realize what he's doing.

Instead of catching a cab or taking the car, he starts off walking. It's been awhile since he stretched his legs like this, and he wants the time it takes to biggest shopping district to think.

Who all does he need or want to get gifts for? Valentin, Alec, Dmitri and family, Svetlana, Gregor, non-personal greeting gifts for Valentin's triad and other children. He feels like he is missing someone. He's already made arrangements for Aither to get her gift, a specialized case to go with the laptop that she received last week for winning their bet. So who is he missing? Reid is already taken care of, that was a quick one, and as always a protested one. He doesn't know James, and his parents are gone. So why does he feel like he's missing someone? Alec's trio maybe? No, that's not it. Maybe he'll figure it out as he is shopping.

Hmmmm, considering how much shopping is probably going to end up doing, he should either make arrangements to have everything delivered, hire a car, or hire a temporary assistant. What to do, what to do. The easiest would be hiring a temporary assistant. Actually, he stops, tipping his head to the side and calling up the map of Moscow in his mind. There are three orphanages within walking distance.

Turning on his heel, he heads to the one closest to him with a bit of a plan. He's definitely going to end up spending more money today than he originally planned, and should probably stop at a bank. Wait no, he'll use the card he has set up for here in Russia and rarely uses. That way he doesn't have to worry about cash and can block any transactions that may be false himself. Though he is definitely not telling anyone around here he's figured out that particular trick.

Continuing on his way to the orphanage, he finds the outside to make him feel as if there is a façade going on. The question is: what type?

Heading up to the door, he knocks twice with enough force to gather the attention of whoever is nearest. Unsurprising, it is an older woman with a stern expression. "May I help you?" she asks with enough ice in her voice to make him want to make her life hell on principle.

"Good morning ma'am," he replies, "I was wondering if there are any teenagers who would be willing to run errands for today for me? I will pay for all transport and meals."

"Why?" she demands, and he understands the 'what's in it for me?' that goes unspoken.

He smiles warmly, at least he's been told it's a warm smile, truthfully it's his 'you really don't want to know how much I am going to ruin your day' smile, and answers, "A nice Christmas bonus for the assistance."

Seriously, he's happy he didn't end up in the Russian orphanage system, technically he's happy he didn't end up in any orphanage. Thankfully he had a very skilled solicitor who was able to play 'guardian' until his father was located and continues to keep track of his trust and family estates.

"Come inside and we will continue our discussion," she just about orders, stepping aside.

He steps in, eyes scanning the area and over her for threats. There are a few older kids moving around, but he doesn't say anything. Instead he waits patiently for her. Eventually, she seems to be done studying him and names off an amount for the 'Christmas Bonus' which he readily agrees with since he has the money on hand. After he hands it to her, she calls out for three teenagers to join them. Two of them are boys, the third is a girl. All three look like they need a bit more food, and definitely some better clothing.

Well damn it, he thinks rather amused with the situation he accidently put himself in, he just found another thing he's going to do. That's alright, if his dad was still alive, he'd be right there beside him doing this. Even though his mum would roll her eyes affectionately, while his pop would just shake his head and join in. He can't give them a gift, but he can do this in their memory, that will have to be enough.

She leaves him with the three, but stands not to far away, watching them.

"Hello, I'm Jon, if you would not mind assisting me for the morning, I'll provide transportation and food." He tells the trio, watching their reactions, tipping his head he comments, "Of course, I actually walked here, so I will have to hire a cab here shortly, but that's not a big deal."

The three stare at him like he is some sort of oddity before the shorter of the two boys introduces himself, "I'm Feodot, what sort of name is Jon?"

"British," he responds with a small smirk, "The Russian equivalence is Ivan."

"Why us?" the girl nearly demands, and if not for the tremor of fear behind the words, he would think she's perfectly confident.

"I thought you may appreciate a chance to earn a bit of money before the holidays." He replies easily, smiling wistfully he adds, "It's something my dad would have done.”

“What sort of work?” The second boy asks curiously.

“Running a few errands, a bit of shopping, lunch, any stories you might care to share about people around here are welcome, I’ve only lived in Russia for the last year,” he responds calmly.

The three share a look and he wonders if they happen to belong to a triad, rather a soulmate or just a good friendship.

“We’ll do it,” the girl declares a bit more sure of herself this time.

“Great, do you have coats? It’s a bit nippy outside.” He inquires politely.

Two of the three nod and go to fetch them, the third, the taller boy gives a subtle shake of his head.

When they get back, the four of them leave together, and he flags down a cab. At first the cabbie looks at them warily, but he smiles and shows the older man some of his cash.

“Why do you do that?” the girl asks as they each get in.

“Do what?” he queries, tilting his head and studying her.

“Offer payment first,” she answers.

“Good manners?” he replies, “I could have taken father’s car but I don't like to drive. Neither does he actually, only has the car for extreme emergencies.”

“I’m Larisa, he’s Ignatii,” she mutters when they reach their destination.

While the other three get out, he leans forward to speak with the cab driver. “How much do you make during a normal day?”

Startled, the cabbie answers the question, giving him a weird look.

“So if I gave you say, a hundred more than that, you’d drive us around for the day?” he offers after doing some quick math.

“Truthfully?” the driver demands.

“Seriously, I hate driving, but I don't leave my house enough to hire a driver,” he answers with a nod. “I’m Jon Valentinovich Markov,” he offers his hand.

“Merkurii Naumovich Utkin,” the cab driver answers. “I accept those terms.”

“Great, if you wanna find somewhere to park, we’ll be in and out of stores, and I might have one of those three run a few deliveries for me, if you don’t mind?” he responds happily. Smiling when the driver agrees with a nod. This trip could go smoother than planned.

He knows there are a lot of dishonest people, but most would rather the long relationship with more money. He also knows that people like this talk amongst themselves, but not with outsiders or officials. Those on top have profited from them for so long that when they have a chance to make extra money for their family, it’s an immediate yes.

The system might be corrupt, but it can be very handy to work with.

Turning back to the other three, he smiles and suggests, “Let's get hot drinks then get started with the shopping.”

He spends the morning getting to know them as they go from store to store. He sends Larisa back to his house with the tree and decorations, writing up a quick introduction note for her to give to Svetlana. He’s sure the housekeeper will want to adopt her, if not literally than metaphorically because he notices that is the type of person she is. By the time she’s back, he has several more gifts picked out and has her take them back to the house, with a second note asking the housekeeper to put them in the basement closet out of sight if she could, he would collect them to wrap when he gets home.

While she is gone the second time, he makes arrangements with an appliance store to deliver a new washer and dryer to Dmitri’s home the following week. He remembers overhearing a conversation between Gregor and his assistant about the broken appliances. Following that, he makes arrangements to have the broken ones brought to the house so he can fix them. They’re fun to tinker with, and it’s been awhile since he tinkered. In the course of his discussion with the shop owner about what he wants to do, he notices Ignatii looks interested, so he invites the other boy to join him, much to the orphans shock.

When she gets back, he takes the three of them clothing shopping. He knows it can’t be anything too fancy, but there is nothing wrong with warm and functional. After which the five of them go to lunch because he talks Merkurii into joining them. By the time the driver drops the trio off at the orphanage and takes him home, he has four new acquaintances. While he knows they aren’t friends, he is pretty sure he can hire them again in the future if need be.

“Thank you, Merkurii,” he tells the driver as he gets out, giving him the agreed on fare and a little more because he’s sure taking four teens around was not the man’s idea of a great day.

He’s startled when the driver grabs a receipt to jot a number down on and hands it to him, “You ever need a ride, just call this number and ask for Merkura. If I’m not on shift or in the middle of a big fare, my brother Ioann will do the driving for you.”

Smiling warmly, he thanks the man again, “I really appreciate this.”

Grinning the older man responds, “I know a good customer when I see one! Good customers are rare, so I want to keep you as one.”

Chuckling, he slides out of the car and heads inside.

He’s met at the door by Svetlana who tells him that Alec left with those three who come to visit, but said he’d be back. A part of him is curious if Alec’s doing what he did, Christmas shopping, but he doesn't want to dwell on it, because there could be a lot of other reasons for his soulmate to leave with the three besides that. Of course, that means his mind has to go there, and as he collects all the things he had her put in the basement to wrap and tag, he goes over the probabilities. There is far more bad possibilities than good ones.

Alec stayed, so he’ll be back. He tells himself firmly, there is nothing to get worked up over.

Instead he turns his attention to the gifts, smiling as he wraps each.

Svetlana was the hardest for him to pick for, but he eventually he found her a collection of small pins and brooches that he thinks she will like since she likes to wear them in place of buttons on some of her smocks. Gregor was the easiest of the three employees, he got the older man a new cookbook that is all about Indian food. Dmitri didn't just get the new appliances for Christmas for his family, he also made arrangements for the older man to get a bonus and picked him up a set of journals since he noticed that his assistant likes to write.

For Valentin he got a new medicine bag and he ordered several updated tools for the case. He remembers the absent comment earlier this year about needing to replace a few of them because they were beginning to rust and the bag was developing a hole.

The next part was a bit tricky, what to get family members his first introduction of them is going to be Christmas day, because his father made arrangements for them to have dinner at the triad house before coming home. Alec is invited but so far his soulmate hasn’t chosen one way or another. So he had done what he does best, and hacked as many sources of information as he possibly could about each. Which isn't really a lot, but it still gave him a pretty good idea of what they are like.

For Ekatrina he got a small collection of handmade hand towels, coasters, and table cloth set all made with subtle flowery designs. Yevgeny is getting a new set of kitchen knives since he likes to cook from what Valentin has said and he found, and according to his mum there is no such thing as too many kitchen knives. Evgeniya gets a new set of dictionaries since apparently she likes to learn and he couldn't find a good set of encyclopedias on short notice. Maksim get’s a tool kit, with a wide array of useful items. It’s almost the same as the one he was given by his dad as a child. Hopefully his half-brother will like it. His youngest sister is getting a collection of animal and dinosaur figurines since he remembers Valentin mentioning she has lately wanted anything related to zoos.

The last person he shopped for is probably the most important to him, and maybe a little harder than the rest of them, and that’s Alec. He ends up ordering a weapons harness and the supplies to customize it, they should be delivered in the next week, giving him just over two weeks to make the changes he wants. Hopefully his soulmate will like the gift. He had considered getting the spy explosives but thought that might not be such a brilliant idea, so he settled on a set of blades to go with the harness. He also got his spy a new set of socks too. That’s the gift he will give the older man in public.

Once he has everything wrapped and tucked away in a large empty tote he found in the corner, he heads upstairs to find Svetlana to see what she did with the Christmas tree and decorations. He’s mildly surprised when he discovers that they were shoved in the back lounge so he can decorate it with Valentin, though her expression is fake innocent when she suggests he might want to make it a family event. He’ll see if Alec would be willing to join, as they are soulmates, they’re family, even if they haven’t discussed it yet.

Speaking of his soulmate, the older man get’s back just as he is heading to his room.

“Hello,” he murmurs, eyes carefully going over his soulmate to check how he is doing. He’s both annoyed and pleased with what he finds, Alec's standing on his own, but has the slight tremble that goes with being tired. He enjoys the view, those jeans just about hug the older man, showing of his aesthetic appeal.

“Jon,” the spy replies with a nod, movements stiff because apparently his soulmate overdid it.

“I was just thinking of a nap,” he suggests.

Alec simply nods, slowly closing the space between them. He almost thinks the older man is going to hug him, but his spy doesn’t. Instead strong fingers lace with his as they make the rest of the distance to the bedroom and the nap awaiting them.

Today’s been successful, he thinks, far more than he expected.


	41. Sassy Christmas Shopping

Alec’s POV  
He’s very surprised by Jon’s question regarding Saturday. It will be the first time since they met that they are not together or at least in the same house. He’s not sure how well he is going to do being in separate places. Still, he needs to do so at some point, so he makes arrangements with Raskova, Bogdan, and Dayesi for them to visit while Jon is gone.

He’s expecting that he may do some PT under his doctor’s watchful eyes. Maybe have lunch with the trio, enjoy watching the way Dayesi and Lilya flirt. Speak with Bogdan about the paperwork. What he isn’t expecting is what Raskova says as he walks in.

“Good, light splints on your arms only. That’s great,” turning to Bogdan she tells him, “Go fetch the travel bag I told you to bring.” When his second leaves, the doctor turns back to him, “You’re changing into real clothes and putting on a coat, scarf, hat, and gloves, then the four of us are going shopping. I’ve been planning it since you said Jon was going to be out of the house for a few hours.”

Shopping? Why would he want to go shopping? He can just have, oh, she thinks it would be better if he does his own shopping rather than send someone to do it for him. Got it. Maybe it will be. He's still not sure what to get Jon. Books will be birthdays. So what to get the younger man, his soulmate, as a gift?

"We brought you a pair of jeans, tee-shirt, coat, socks and boots," Dayesi tells him. "I'm looking forward to seeing what he thinks of you in jeans."

He rolls his eyes, because so far there has been nothing more than platonic cuddling and small, non-sexual intimacies.

He doesn't know why that is. There could be several different reasons. The teen could be waiting for him to heal the rest of the way. Or Jon could think he doesn't want him. There's the chance that Jon doesn't want him, though he doesn't think that's it considering how possessive the younger man is.

The baths could be considered an intimacy, but Jon has pretty much stopped helping. He's not sure why. It was a favorite time, he loved the way those slender fingers touched him so surely, gently caring for him. He really wants to know why the young man stopped, does he need to ask? When did his hacker stop? The first day he bathed without any splints, Jon had asked if he wanted a hand, he said no, Jon hasn't asked again since. Oh. Damn it. Jon thinks _he_ doesn't want the bath experience. He'll have to correct that.

"Here's the go bag," Bogdan remarks as he comes in.

Forcing himself out of his mind, he takes the bag and carefully returns to the bedroom. Jon's still in the shower, so he changes into the clothes, almost sighing in pleasure at the feel of familiar clothes against his skin.

He rejoins the other three, taking his time lacing the boots while sitting in the chair.

Jon stops in just after he finishes lacing them, stepping just inside the door and keeping his back to the wall as he comments, "I'll see you later." The younger man glances at Raskova and orders, "Make sure he doesn't over do it."

Lidiya nods in agreement, "I can do that," she promises.

"Good," the teen states, one warm smile in his direction later, and Jon is gone.

He finds it odd the way Jon seemed almost nervous, that's not the younger man's normal style. It makes him wonder what's wrong? He's edgy about the separation, is Jon bothered by it too? It's Jon's idea, though he understands it is necessary, it has to happen sometime.

"What's up with him?" Dayesi inquires, eyes narrowing at the door the teen just slipped through.

"I'm not sure?" he answers, almost questioning himself.

Sighing, Raskova shakes her head, "You two."

"What?" his fellow spy mutters.

"Did you think it has to do with the fact Jon has spent the better part of four months taking care of him and that protective instinct is still in overdrive? I feel the same way about you three after an injury, but my medical training helps me to deal with it better." The doctor responds to her girlfriend. Turning her attention towards him, Raskova remarks, "Get your coat on, we should be on the road shortly so we can get you back before he's back." She pauses tilting her head slightly and asking, "Unless you'd rather come to the safe house?"

"Back here," he replies, "At least for now."

He's not leaving Jon unless his soulmate wants him to, and from what he knows, his soulmate doesn't want him to.

Slowly standing, he walks with the three of them to the door, only to stop when Svetlana comes bustling over.

"You're leaving?" she sounds almost confused and sad.

"Only for a few hours," he answers smoothly, "Doctor Raskova thought it might be a good time to get a little bit of stretching done while Christmas shopping." Why is he explaining himself to the housekeeper? Probably because if Jon gets back first he doesn't want his hacker to feel as if he is going permanently.

"You be careful now," the older woman tells him, nodding at the other three politely before returning to hanging the lights in the hall like she had been doing originally.

When they get out to the car, Raskova remarks, "Apparently Jon's not the only one who is concerned about you."

Almost smirking, he replies, "I think the housekeeper is concerned on Jon's behalf." Even though it's been nearly a month since he discovered they are soulmates, he hasn't actually told these three yet. He should tell them, all three know about James, and the fact his soulmate left him here, though he hasn't told them that James was the one who tried to kill him.

"What are you not saying?" Dayesi asks, twisting around in the front seat to face him.

"It's not just worry about a patient," he answers slowly. He trusts these three with his life. He's certain he can trust them with Jon's. At the same time, he worries that saying something will actually cause the danger.

Beside him, Lilya's eyes widen as if she just realized something.

Dayesi glances between him and her girlfriend before turning to Bogdan and stating, "You owe me. I won that bet."

Grumbling, his second comments, "He didn't say what the relationship is."

"Maybe not, but Lilya thinks it's personal and that means I won." She remarks smoothly, "Pay up when we get to stop one."

"Stop one?" he repeats, wondering exactly how much shopping the doctor is planning on.

"Yes," Raskova happily declares, "Stop one. First a nice computer case, I know you, you know the measurements for that laptop, so I decided a good place to start is a decent case for it."

Snickering, he asks, "Which one of us is in the relationship?"

She smiles at him warmly, "You, but you're also a spy, you think bribery gifts, not heartfelt gifts."

He considers disagreeing with that statement but decides not to because she is probably right. "What else were you thinking?"

"Well, you're the one who knows more about him, so after we find a nice computer case, a good computer case, we can stop for lunch to discuss what you know and formulate a plan for the rest of the gifts." She replies, still quite pleased with herself it seems.

He just hums in agreement.

Their first stop is actually a high end electronics store. Most of the merchandise is of good to excellent quality and they even sell a selection of laptops, though he notices that none of them are like the one Jon has.

"Can I help you sir?" a sale's representative asks Bogdan, the only one in their group wearing something semi-formal.

Bogdan glances over at him asking, "Can he help us with something Boss?"

"It depends on whether they carry any decent customizable laptop cases," he replies, still scanning the room.

The sales representative looks between them, confusion clear on his face.

A moment later the store manager emerges from the office, eyes flickering between them as the older man asks seriously, "Is here a problem here?"

"No sir," the representative answers, "There just seems to be a little confusion as to who the customer is."

"The only confusion is your automatic and inaccurate assumption that the person wearing a suit is the customer." Dayesi remarks dryly.

"I am Abram Gordeevich Lagunov, owner and manager of this store."

Dayesi lifts her head, almost staring down her nose at the man, a rather impressive trick considering she is the shortest one in the room. "Then perhaps you can be of assistance."

He holds back a chuckle at the man's expression. Apparently the people who work in this store are not used to direct women.

"You mentioned laptop cases, they are right over here," Lagunov mentions, motioning to a corner of the store.

Curiously, because he hasn't actually seen a case for Jon's laptop in the house, he follows the owner to the section.

"Is the purchase for yourself or as a gift? We do small customizations," the owner continues as he lifts a piece of paper to hand him.

"A gift," he replies, "someone," how to refer to his soulmate? They are not dating, at least as far as he can tell, there hasn't really been any change in their dynamic since the younger man showed him the soulmarks. For now he'll just settle for using Jon's name, well a variation therein. "Vansha, has a laptop, but I have yet to see a case." His eyes skim over the cases available. "All of these are too small."

"Too small?" Lagunov repeats, brows drawing together as he frowns, "These are all the standard sizes. Do you know the dimensions of the device?"

Absently he lists them off as he looks at the piece of paper handed to him. Extra pocket, different types of straps, buckles and locks, a variety of little ways of securing the laptop remains in the case and on the owner. Some of them even seem useful but first need a case.

"That's remarkable, there are very few laptops like that that I've seen. I could make a case to those dimensions to be delivered or picked up next week if you would like?" The manager offers, he can practically see the money signs in the other man's eyes. "Our cases are made of only the finest materials."

Arching an eyebrow he looks over the cases again, noting the fact several are artificial leather or snake skin over plastic.

"I find that hard to believe," he replies, turning towards the other three. "Did you have somewhere else in mind?"

"Well," Raskova answers, "I had heard this was the place for excellent service and items, but I was given the names to two other shops that might work for what is needed.”

“I assure you madam, we carry the best,” Lagunov hastily assures them, “A laptop like you described is a rare piece of equipment, very costly, it deserves only the best case. Please,” the older man motions towards his office invitingly.

Dayesi glides past them, and he watches in amusement as she looks around before taking a seat on the edge of the desk just inside his line of sight and slightly inclines her head.

“Very well,” he agrees, rolling his eyes the instant the owner’s back is turned.

“Nice save with the name,” Raskova murmurs as they follow the owner.

“I don’t know what your talking about,” he lies with a straight face.

“Of course you don’t,” she replies, amusement filling her tone. “I didn't miss the fact you used a diminutive form of his Russian name.”

“What else would I use? We _are_ in Russia.” He retorts as he takes a seat in one of the armchairs, relief pouring through his limbs. He’s still not used to being up so much. It’s annoying.

“We are,” she agrees with a little smile, the sort that says she knows something but hasn’t confirmed it yet.

The manager pulls out a small box from the bottom drawer, carefully opening it to reveal a collection of materials. “There is a wide variety of choices for the exterior and interior of the case. There are also options for style of case.” He pretty much tunes the man out, collecting only the parts that might be worthwhile as he considers what sort of case he would like to get.

When Lagunov is done speaking, he outlines what he would like and when he would like it by, watching the way the man’s eyes go wide for a moment before assuring him that is very possible.

Jon is a hacker, but he also likes to make things, so a case that can easily hold the laptop securely whether opened or closed, and a pocket for tools would be handy. Heavy leather over a steel frame with extra padding, and straps that can fasten along the outside or along the top, bottom and across the corners of the keyboard. It will have the briefcase handle but also have a pair of straps that can be connected to carry across the shoulder or like a backpack. The straps have extra padding so not to be too hard against the body. There is a second pocket for paperwork or books that Jon might wish to store with it.

The arrangements are made for Bogdan to pick it up the following week.

“Let’s get lunch before we continue,” Raskova suggests once they are back in the car.

He just leans his head against the window, angry with how tired he suddenly feels.

A few minutes later, he finds himself in a private table at one of his favorite restaurants. He should bring Jon here when he is not feeling like he was recently ran over with a car.

“Do you have any other gift ideas for him?” Raskova asks after they ordered.

“Customized wrist sheaths and Damascus throwing knives,” he answers quietly.

“Pay up Bogdan, you definitely lost that bet,” Dayesi announces, holding her hand out.

He chuckles wondering when his second will learn better.

“Anything else?” Lidiya inquires sweetly, eyes gleaming like she has an idea or two if he doesn't.

“Art supplies, good ones not the cheap crap,” he answers as he looks about the room. He’s fairly sure Jon would like this place. It’s not overly pompous, there’s good food, and the staff is excellent.

“Perfect, what sort? He struck me as the hands on type, but I couldn't really figure out what sort and he never answers questions when I try asking random things.” She remarks, falling quiet as the waiter brings their meal. “Although some consider technology a type of art, so perhaps that is his type.”

He chuckles at her exasperated tone, knowing that Jon’s avoidance of the questions is a trick learned from his soulmate’s dad. It’s driven him up the wall a few times too.

“I’m sure he’d agree with that statement, at least the way he looks at the laptop sometimes or talks about tinkering.” He comments with a smile. “As for his art of preference, sketching and blueprinting.”

“Blueprinting?” Dayesi pipes in curiously, “What sort of blueprinting?”

“Gadgets and appliances, changes to items he can improve on, I think the one was a high powered computer,” he replies.

“Talented teen,” his fellow spy comments, “Explains the electricity and the window.”

Grinning, he nods in agreement, and “He is.”

The rest of the meal goes in relative peace. He’s only mildly surprised they are not trying to ask about Jon or why he is staying there. He’s staying, for Jon, because too many people have walked out of his soulmate’s life, and he’s not going to be another one. Eventually they will have to talk about whatever it is that is happening between them, because he doesn't know and he doesn't like not knowing. Of course, he doesn't like those sort of conversations either. So either way it’s going to be a discussion he both doesn't want and needs.

After they are done with lunch, they head to their favorite local custom weapon supplier so he can order the knives and sheaths for them.

When they walk in, the clerk takes one look at them before fetching Ilona Doubekova, better known as Nože, a moment later she comes out of her back room, practically beaming when she sees him.

“It’s good to see you are alive, there was a rumor floating around that you perished!” She exclaims, “I had a few pieces I wished to show you, please come in the back.”

He nods, and the four of them follow her to the work room.

“Do you have a special request or can I try wowing you?” she queries as she goes over to one of the cupboards and pulls a book out.

“I need a pair of throwing knives, and cases, with a particular set of etchings on them.” He answers.

“For you or someone else?” She asks as she sets the case down in front of him and reaches for a pen and paper. “Hand type is important for good throwing knives.”

Understanding that, he nods as he takes a look in the box. Now these are some pretty pieces, he thinks as he takes each one out to study. “Someone else: hacker, slender, long fingers, dexterous.” He answers as he rolls one of the blades to see how well it is balanced. No surprise it’s perfectly balanced.

The second knife in the set is almost the same as the one in Jon’s bedside table drawer, only the weight is far more even and balanced. He automatically sets it aside to purchase, planning on placing it with the first in the drawer, shoving the second to the back in case it has some sort emotional value to his soulmate.

“Adjustable straps for the wrist, leather cuffs that tuck, or elastic and leather cuffs?” Nože asks as she makes a few more notes.

“Leather cuffs that tuck,” he replies as he takes the next blade out to look at it.

She jots that down, then asks, “Design on the sheaths, blades, or both?”

“Sheaths,” he answers without thinking about it.

Nodding, she writes that down, “Design same on both or different?”

Knowing he’s about to give away what Jon is to his companions, if not the weapon dealer, he replies, “Storm clouds on one, rowan with spread branches on the other.”

He hears the soft gasp from Raskova, but doesn't look at her. Either the other two controlled their reactions, or they haven’t realized what that means yet.

They go over a few other details like the type of leather and whether he wants them to fit smoothly beneath clothing again. The last thing they discuss about the knives and sheaths is the cost. Even that does not take too much discussion. Her prices are fairly close to fixed, only the decorations and styles determine the differences.

“I can do that and have them ready by next Wednesday to be picked up.” Nože informs them. Smiling, she notices the knife he set aside and asks, “Are you purchasing that one now?”

“Yes,” he answers calmly, still ignoring the other three. He can just about feel the hole Bogdan is staring into his back.

“Excellent! I’ll get you checked out and start on those tonight.” She pauses for a moment then informs him, “Stefan will get you checked out.”

He nods, replying, “Thank you.”

By the time they reach the car after paying, having it wrapped and bagged, he can feel the energy pouring off his companions. They want to ask, after all, all three have seen his marks at one point or another, but they don't want to ask in from of other people.

Sure enough as soon as they are in the car and the door is shut, Lidiya turns to him and nearly demands in her excitement, “He’s your other soulmate? Is that why you want him? Does he know?”

Chuckling, he holds a hand up for quiet, answering each question in turn. “I wanted him before I knew we are soulmates. It has nothing to do with me wanting him, it just gives me another reason to pursue him. He knew from day one, I found out the day I started walking again.”

Just about squealing, the doctor wiggles happily in place. “That’s even better! It will show you were interested in him as a person and not just a soulmate!” She exclaims excitedly. “Have you discussed it yet? Are you going to? What does he think?”

Laughing softly at her obvious curiosity and pleasure at the concept of him having a soulmate, he responds, “Not really, eventually, I haven’t asked, but a bit possessive from what I can tell.”

Bogdan is the one who asks the painful question, “Does he know about the other one?”

“Yes,” he answers curtly. Today is a good day, he’s focusing on his shopping for Jon, not his lost chances with James.

“Dayusha!” Raskova nearly shrills.

Snickering, the assassin nods, “Yes Lidisha, I understood what he meant when he stated what he wants. Pipe down, you’re lungs are going to break our ears.”

Blushing, the taller woman nods in agreement.

“Where would I get the best art supplies?” he asks, changing the topic on purpose. Thankfully the ladies let him.

“I know just the place Boss,” Bogdan tells him.

Just the place happens to be an art gallery that also teaches and sells supplies. He looks around casually when they walk in, taking in the exits, items and people. An older gentleman asks if he can be of assistance. The next several minutes are spent discussing the type of art done and the type of supplies Jon currently has without ever saying who they are for. Eventually the older gentleman makes several suggestions and offers several samples for him to use as a trial. He doesn't do this sort of art, so he takes the man’s word for it and gets probably far more than Jon will need any time soon, just because he can.

When they leave there, as they get back in the car, Raskova offers, “I’ll wrap everything since fine detail isn't your strong suit currently.”

“Thanks,” he mutters as he glowers in her direction, making Dayesi laugh.

Leaning his head against the window once more, he closes his eyes and tries not to think about how much all of his limbs currently ache or the fact he wants to see Jon right now, just to make sure he is real. He’s a bit surprised when they reach the Markov household, and shoots questioning looks at Bogdan.

“You looked tired Boss,” his second answers with a shrug, “I have a feeling your Vansha can be a scary person where you’re concerned.”

Dayesi nods in agreement, “I get the feeling he knows more than he should, and it makes me edgy.”

Lidiya chuckles and shakes her head, “You two are hilarious. I’m sure he’s like most hackers, only a threat when threatened.”

He doesn't comment, instead he slowly gets out of the car to head into the house.

Even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to explain the relief he feels when he spots Jon emerging from the basement. Warmth starts low in his stomach and spreads through his limbs, releasing the tension he hadn't realized he was holding in. His hacker looks good in the dark slacks and light sweater.

“Hello,” the younger man greets him, ignoring the other two who came in with him.

Swallowing, he nods as he replies, “Jon.”

The corners of Jon’s lips twitch upwards, “I was just thinking of a nap.”

He wonders only for a minute whether that’s for his benefit or not, and decides it doesn't matter. Nodding again, he crosses the space between them, hesitantly lacing his fingers with his soulmates and considering bring Jon’s hand up to kiss the back of it, but deciding against it. Behind him he can hear the snickers from Dayesi and pleased, happy noises from Raskova but he ignores them.

Instead he walks to the bedroom with Jon. Once there, he settles on the edge of the bed in order to take the boots off. Before taking the rest of his outwear off and grabbing the pajamas to slip on. Jon sits beside him on the bed after the younger man changes clothes. A few minutes later he is under the blanket, his hacker snuggled up against his body, head on his shoulder as he wraps an arm around a slender waist.

“Sleep well,” he murmurs.

“You too, Alec,” his soulmate mumbles.

Closing his eyes, he thinks, maybe we don't need to find a label for this, and just be instead. This is nearly perfect as is.


	42. Christmas Tree

Valentin’s POV  
There are twenty-five days until Christmas. Last year he spent the entire holiday season with a patient and her family because she was having a troubled pregnancy and she was concerned about things going wrong. Did he actually need to be there for the entire thing? Probably not. As a side effect, he completely forgot to celebrate it with Ivan. He had a been in the middle of Christmas Eve dinner with his triad when he was called away, so he hadn’t thought anything of it. That is, until Vanya asked if he is an embarrassment. Since that conversation he’s been going through all of his interactions with his son over the last year and finding himself lacking.

So the plan is to try and make up for it this year. Not that he’s sure it will really work, but he’s still going to try.

Step one: have Svete dig all the decorations out of storage and decorate the house.

Step two: make arrangements with all his patients to let them know he is taking a sixteen day holiday starting December twenty-third and going to January eighth. Most immediately agreed, promising to call the doctor he has covering his cases during that time. The few that didn't agree quickly, agreed after he explained it’s his first Christmas with his son.

Step three: try and figure out some sort of gifts for Ivasya. Seriously, he hasn’t spent nearly enough time with his own son to know what to get the teenager, and that bothers him. He knows his triad children better and he spends next to no time with them, though he plans to change that with the new year.

Step four: make sure the arrangements to celebrate Christmas as a family include Vanyai in the triad plans. An invitation was also extended to Aleksei, but he is not sure he really wants that invitation accepted.

Step five: spend time with his entire family, both Vanya and the triad side.

That’s it, five should be simple but probably won’t be steps.

Of course, he got home to discover that he doesn't have a tree or the decorations that go on it and that Vanya is picking them up while out of the house Christmas shopping.

That’s surprising on so many levels. It’s the first time that he knows of Vanyai willingly leaving Aleksei alone. The second being that his son is Christmas shopping. To his knowledge that hadn’t happened last year. The third being that the teenager left the house voluntarily when he knows how much the younger man doesn't like going out normally. At least, that’s the way it has seemed since Ivasya didn't leave the house a lot even before Aleksei was brought here. He’s sure there are other things about it to make him surprised, but those are more than adequate to begin with.

He had been heading towards his son’s room to check in with Aleksei and make sure everything is alright when his housekeeper informs him that he is gone as well. Apparently Doctor Raskova and the other two who come to visit left together. However Aleksei assured Svete that he’d be back.

So he ended up back in his office working on some paperwork while he waited for Ivan to return. Only he seemed to miss his son’s return because by time he emerged from his office, Vanyai had laid down for a nap with Aleksei. He ended up returning to his office, where he stayed late into the night before going to bed.

He just woke up a little bit ago, hasn’t even managed to get up and dressed before his mind decided to start going over yesterday and his plans for today. He’s fairly sure he should check with Ivasya to make sure his son will be willing to go along with them.

Getting up, he quickly does his morning routine before heading downstairs. He manages to catch Svete before she takes the breakfast tray to his son’s room, and requests, “If you don’t mind?”

“Of course not, sir,” she replies, allowing him to take it.

“Thank you,” he tells her, “I will be in shortly to get my tea and oatmeal.”

She nods, turning to head back in the kitchen while he walks down the hall towards his son’s room. He uses his foot to knock on the door, unsurprised when Ivan opens it in pajamas.

“Good morning?” the teenager states questioningly.

He smiles at his son, offering the tray as he replies, “Good morning Ivan, Aleksei. I was wondering if you would be interested in decorating the tree Sveta said you picked up yesterday.”

Chuckling, Vanyai nods in agreement before commenting, “I was going to ask you the same thing, though after I had breakfast and got a shower.”

Warmth fills his chest. Vanya was going to ask if he wanted to help with the tree. His son wants to spend time with him. Willingly spend time with him, doing a family activity. He hasn’t completely destroyed the situation. “That would be excellent. When were you thinking of decorating the tree?”

“Just after lunch,” Ivan answers.

Aleksei surprises him with the suggestion, “You two should have lunch together.”

His head swivels around towards the crime lord as he tries to formulate an answer.

“Better yet, all three of us should have lunch together in the back lounge, then set up the tree together,” Vanyai counters with a playful smile.

Aleksei looks like he is going to argue for a moment before nodding instead, a small smile playing around of his lips.

Ivan’s attention turns to him, one dark brow arching at him.

“Of course, that would be more than acceptable,” he states, glancing between the two again.

What is going on? He hasn’t known since day one and he still doesn’t know. What he does know is that slightly impatient expression being sent his way. It’s one he has seen on his own face, and more importantly on _her_ face many times.

“Then I will see you at lunch time,” he tells the pair, withdrawing and closing the door behind him,

Soft voices can be heard through the door, but not clear enough for him to actually know what is said. He freezes when the sound of warm laughter floats through, making him smile. Perhaps the crime lord is the perfect person for his son. That’s what soulmates are supposed to be after all. One hand absently goes to the tattoo on his hip. Shaking his head, he heads to the kitchen, smiling affectionately at his cook and housekeeper when he notices the normal breakfast arrangement between them.

“Good morning,” Grisha greets him from the stool closest to the counter, the tall man working his dough for the bread.

“Sleep well?” Svete inquires as he takes her bowl of honeyed oatmeal and sits at the small table tucked into a corner across from his spot.

“I did, once I got to bed. I found myself a bit distracted last night,” he’s probably closer to his staff than he should be according to polite society, however Masha quit and he has known both for years. He actually attended the same primary school as Svetlana when they were children, and she had introduced him to Gregor after he bought this house two years following his soulmate walking out of his life. They’re his closest friends, even more than his triad, which is something he’s been thinking about lately.

“Hopefully nothing bad,” she remarks as he takes his seat.

He’s not sure how to answer that. His reflections about his family life could be considered bad, but he doesn’t want to think that there is something wrong with his family. He’s the problem, not them. It’s his fault things are messed up. It’s his responsibility to fix them.

“Only some of my habits that need fixing,” he answers eventually, picking up his tea to take a sip.

She nods slowly, as if thinking it through.

“Will you need us over the holiday?” Grisha asks bluntly, looking directly at him almost accusingly.

“No,” he replies after he finishes his bite, understanding the expression. “At least I don’t think so. I plan to ask Ivan to come with me to the triad home for the week. Ekatrina has already extended that invitation to Aleksei as well.”

“Why?” Svete asks curiously.

Taking a calming breath he answers slowly, “It’s not to be shared, but they have matched marks.” Closing his eyes, he takes another calming breath. He’s known for four months about the matched marks and the meaning behind them and he still has a hard time with it. Aleksei, or Janus as he goes by in the crime world, is the most lethal type of dangerous. “I hadn’t planned to tell them, but I couldn’t well explain why my teenage son seems to prefer sleeping next to a crime lord he didn’t know to having a nurse take care of him.”

His friends nod.

“It explains a great deal,” Grisha announces, “A great deal.”

“Yes it does,” Svete hums in agreement. “I had wondered, Ivan is not a people person, well not like that. He is friendly, even helpful and caring, but he doesn’t touch people, yet he has been touching him from the beginning.”

They eat the rest of their breakfast in silence. He doesn’t know about their thoughts, but his keeps coming back to how unlikely the pair is and yet they seem to work so well together.

“I think it will be a successful match,” Svete declares as she sets her spoon down. “There is obvious affection between them. It explains why. I know I couldn’t think of a reason for it.”

“Affection?” he repeats, thinking of all the times he has seen them together. There is something in their eyes when they glance at each other. He’s seen the way Aleksei’s eyes shutter like there is a wall between him and his emotions when there are other people in the room, but when it’s just the two of them, it’s a very different matter. Jon’s almost the same way, only instead of a wall it’s like he changes emotional gears, bringing up a mask in place so his real emotions cannot be seen. “Yes, there’s affection,” he agrees, “I just don’t know that they know.”

“Probably not, if they are anything like my soulmates they don’t because they haven’t discussed it yet.” Svete remarks with a snort. “Men rarely discuss it if they think they can avoid it.”

Grisha snickers, “Yes, I remember my brother and his soulmate, those two danced around each other for months because they wouldn’t talk.”

“If you could lay out lunch in the family lounge, that would be appreciated. Ivan desires that the three of us share an informal meal before beginning the tree decorations,” he requests lightly, knowing that Svete will probably decided to clean the family lounge since it’s been awhile since it was last used. The guest lounge is used far more often.

“Of course!” she agrees readily, “I’ll need to do a thorough cleaning in there. That’s all right, it’s due for a good cleaning and I have been doing the rest of the house this week while putting the decorations up.”

Rising, he states sincerely, “Thank you, for everything.” Turning towards the door he remarks, “I’ll be in the patient room doing an inventory.”

“I’ll tell you when everything’s ready,” she promises.

“Lunch for the three of you?” Grisha queries, “I will make sure it is something you all like.”

The time between breakfast and lunch is spent making notes on his gift ideas and shopping. It's fairly quick for the children and his triad. Figuring out gifts for Grisha and Svete is simple, if not quick. That leaves him with Ivan. The hardest person to get something for. Actually, he should probably get something small for Aleksei, to show that he supports his son's choice. What can he get them? He's aware of the crime lord liking a strong drink from time to time, so he will get a good bottle of vodka for Aleksei. Now he's back to his original issue, what to get his son?

Well, what are Vanyai’s interests? The laptop, computer programming seems to be an important thing to his son. Books, though he is not sure the exact type since it seems that Vanya is forever reading different ones. He’s well aware of the teens love of tinkering, and the fact there were some tools he was grumbling about not having when working on the x-ray machine. What else? He has to know other things about Ivan, only nothing is coming to mind.

He’s definitely failing as a parent, he thinks ruefully. Do all parents feel this lost about their children? Probably not, they more likely know their children at least a little bit. He discovered his son, and has already failed to get to know him by not changing his working habits. It’s no wonder Ivan doesn’t respond to the diminutive forms of his name, why would he? They’re not really used so Vanya is probably not used to them. Well then, he will have to correct that, only how to do so when he is fairly certain his son will be moving out far sooner than he would like. He can’t see Aleksei wishing to stay and instinct tells him Ivan will leave with his soulmate.

A sharp knock on his door draws his attention and alerts him to the fact it is lunch time.

“Coming,” he calls back as he rises.

The door opens a crack, just enough for his housekeeper to peak her head in, “I am getting ready to lay out lunch.”

He smiles at her as he crosses the room, “Thank you.”

They walk downstairs together in companionable silence. He’s nervous about this upcoming lunch and the tree decorating to follow. When they reach the bottom of the stairs they go different directions, she heads to the kitchen while he heads to the family lounge. He’s mildly surprised to discover he is the first one there, so he spends the time looking at the variety of decorations that Ivan had acquired for the smallish tree standing in the corner.

There seems to be a little of everything. There is fluffy garland in shimmering silver, shiny gold, glossy blue, and vibrant red. There are several different spools of ribbon in various colors and fabric types. There are strands of multi-hued lights and white ones, in both the small and large varieties. There are three different tree skirts. The first one is dark red, plain except the beading of white marbles carefully hewn along the hem. The second one is white with little figures carefully stitched into it, all from the Russian myths surrounding Christmas. The third is deep green with mistletoe and poinsettias embroidered into it. The ornaments are the most diverse selection. There are bulbs of every color and shape, some glass, some plastic. There are even three different tree toppers. One star, one angel, and one ribbon bow. There’s even a small collection of figurines depicting Father Frost, the Winter Maiden, his sleigh and horses.

There are a lot of options, more than he ever expected. That seems to be a common situation when dealing with Ivan.

He’s just settled in one of the armchairs when the pair comes in, so he uses it as a chance to study them.

Aleksei is tall, taller than Ivan and him anyways, and solid. The crime lord is not the slender type, nor is he the heavy muscled type, instead he’s somewhere in the middle. Despite the lack of movement and mobility until very recently, Aleskei retained most of his muscles, meaning they are the natural type and not the work out non-stop type. The crime lord’s dark blonde almost brown hair has been trimmed recently, taking it back to the length it was when he brought Aleksei here. He’s never been able to tell if the crime lord’s eyes are emerald or jade, what he can tell is the fact there is something obviously there when Aleksei looks at his son.

Ivan on the other hand, is average height and slender. Often times his son appears smaller and weaker than he is because of clothing choices. It had surprised him when Vanyai helped with the surgery, keeping the crime lord’s arm still when he was working on the pins since he had not used any drugs to knock Aleksei out, only a localized anesthetic because he had been worried about all of the damage and the dangers of using full anesthetics. Besides being surprisingly strong, his son definitely inherited his mother’s mischievous nature. It shows through quite often, in so many ways that even he noticed it, despite spending so little time with Ivan.

The pair contrasts each other in their looks, even complement each other since they seem to be a nearly perfect fit.

“No tripping over your own feet,” Vanyai remarks with a playful smile, hands steadying the taller man when Aleksei stumbles.

Snorting, the crime lord’s answer is too quiet for him to hear, but causes his son to chuckle.

“Hello,” Ivan greets him as he guides them to the sofa.

“Good afternoon,” he replies, nodding once at his son’s soulmate.

Svete comes in with their lunch before anyone can say anything else, happily announcing, “I hope everyone enjoys.”

He smiles when he sees the chicken salad for him, the plate of cheese and bacon covered chips with a small bowl of salsa for Aleksei, and chicken strips smothered in cheese, BBQ sauce, and bacon for Ivan.

“I will be right back with the tea and coffee,” she declares, leaving without giving them a chance to request something else.

“Do you know what type of tea?” he queries, tipping his head sideways as he considers all the options.

“Most likely Earl Gray,” his son answers with a shrug, “It’s what I drink at lunch and breakfast, while I drink other flavors the rest of the time.”

He nods, deciding that will work for him.

Most of the meal is quiet. They don’t speak much besides a random question here and there. He’s used to this sort of silence out of Aleksei, having a hard time remembering the crime lord speaking to someone just to speak and not give orders in the previous occasions he met Janus. Ivan on the other hand seems a bit unsure what to say, as if he is trying to avoid saying the wrong thing. His son should never feel like that. Unfortunately, he knows it is him that Ivasya feels unsure about because he has heard the teen murmuring to Aleksei on several occasions over the last few months.

Svete gives them all questioning glances when she drops off the drinks. Traditional Russian tea and jam for him, Earl Gray for Ivan, and strong coffee for Aleksei.

When they are done eating, he wonders how to bring up the topic of starting the tree, but quickly realizes he doesn’t have to worry about it, Vanyai has that covered.

“I didn’t want to get too big a tree,” the teenager remarks as he stands up, “and I wasn’t sure what sort of decorations to get. In the past,” he watches as Ivan swallows hard, “in the past we would have used the ones that are stored for such occasions, possibly made or bought a new one, but that’s not now.”

It’s not hard to understand what is being left unsaid. That was before Ivan’s parents vanished, for all he is the teenager’s birth father, he’s not considered one of Vanyai’s parents. Maybe in the future that will change, he hopes that will change.

“I noticed there is a quite a selection,” he replies with a smiles. “Do you have favorites?”

When his son doesn’t answer and looks like he is lost in thought, Aleksei suggests, “We should probably start at the bottom of the tree and build it upwards.”

That seems to help Vanya figure something out, because relief flashes through hazel eyes. “I bought the one’s I liked best from the options I found.”

So his son wants him to pick one, or perhaps Aleksei to pick one.

Janus watches him with speculative eyes.

Standing, he moves over to the decorations, pulling the tree skirts out of the pile, glancing at each of them before suggesting, “This one,” holding the white one up.

Ivan nods, taking it from him and carefully draping it around the bottom of the tree, covering the water filled stand and fanning it out around the base. “Garland or lights next?” the teenager asks.

“Garland,” Aleksei answers with a smile, slowly rising and walking over to the pile of decorations. It’s easy to see that the crime lord’s muscles are a bit stiff. He knows that Janus has been doing extremely well with his physical therapy, so this must be from overuse, rather than a lack of use. “The silver or gold, you picked a very dark green tree, it’ll contrast nicely.”

He nods in agreement, and nods a second time when Ivan picks it up and holds it near the tree for color comparison. “That’ll be perfect,” he states.

Mischief enters the teenager’s eyes as he lightly tosses it to his soulmate, snickering when it is almost dropped. Aleksei catches it, albeit barely, and rolls his eyes as he opens the garland up.

He’s so busy watching their byplay, that he misses the garland being tossed in his direction until it smacks him in the face and drops to the floor with a soft thud.

Leaning down to grab it, he smiles at the younger man’s antics.

“Come on, one of you put your color on,” Vanya comments and points at the tree.

He watches as Aleksei studies the tree, eyes going between it and the garland in his hand. Finally, the taller man takes the packaging off and steps closer to the tree. Starting the silver garland at the top, he makes loose loops around the tree until he runs out near the bottom. Since the silver starts at the top, he decides to start the gold on the bottom and makes his loops just a bit tighter so it will go all the way to the top. The tree is just big enough that walking around it is easier than reaching around it the way Janus had. Ivan has the red and blue in his hand, and carefully twines them together before wrapping them around the tree, somehow carefully arranging it so the gold and silver are on either side of it at all times.

Stepping back, the teenager comments, “That’s a lot of garland.”

“Nah,” Aleksei answers almost playfully, “I can still see some tree.”

The two are standing close together, so close he wonders if they even realize that any sort of motion would have them touching.

Vanyai bumps their shoulders together lightly, just a brush, the hints of a smirk on the teenagers lips, changing the smile from pleased to playful.

“We should use the small colored lights on the tree,” he suggests as he glances at the options, before looking at the other two.

This time it’s Aleksei who nods in agreement, nose wrinkling as he looks at the large lights and asks, “Aren’t those supposed to be outdoor lights?”

Laughing softly, Vanyai answers, “No, I got the indoor variety.”

“Sure you did,” the taller man drawls.

He watches in amazement, aware that Svete is right and his son isn’t the biggest on touch, as Vanya lightly pushes against his soulmate’s side before leaning down to snag two of the boxes of lights.

“We should use a strand of the white ones to make a ring around the tree skirt,” he suggests as he grabs for a box, “It’ll make the beads look like they’re glowing.”

Aleksei shrugs, watching to see what sort of reaction Ivan is going to have.

Vanyai smiles and he’d swear it’s relieved but he doesn’t know why his son would be relieved he suggested something.

It’s been years since he helped decorate a tree, but he doesn’t remember relief being a normal reaction to it. Why is his son relieved? There has to be a reason, but what? Is it because he’s trying to participate? Isn’t that what this is about?

“That’s a good idea,” Ivan eventually remarks when he makes no moves towards doing it.

He watches as the teen takes the lights out of the box, removing the bindings before passing them to Aleksei.

Slowly, the crime lord circles the tree with the lights, rather than passing it between his hands as he unrolls them.

Once the lights are in place, Ivan carefully pushes the tree closer to the wall, making sure to keep the skirt smooth, before reaching over to plug it in.

The tree lights up, glowing softly, the lights and garland shimmering and sparkling.

“The star should go on top,” he remarks as he stares, “It’s the best topper with those lights.”

Ivan nods, grabbing its box and taking it out. The teenager tries to hand it to Aleksei, probably because he’s the one who picked it, only the taller man doesn’t accept it. Instead, he watches in amusement as the crime lord tugs Ivan in front of him, arms wrapping around the smaller frame, and murmurs something in his son’s ear.

Vanyai blushes, skin turning a light shade of pink as he nods in agreement to whatever was said in his ear.

His eyes widen as Aleksei runs a hand along the outside of Vanya’s arm, hands over lapping as they reach towards the top and settle the star.

Ivan plugs it into the strand of lights, smiling as it lights up.

He glances away, kneeling down to adjust the white lights around the base of the tree and around the skirt, giving them a moment of privacy.

“The bulbs need the hooks put on them, I wasn’t sure if the ribbon type or metal ones would be preferred, so I got both,” Ivan comments as he steps to the side and sits on his knees by the ornaments.

“The metal ones are easier to work with,” he comments.

Aleksei just shrugs, sitting back down on the sofa.

“Come over here and help pick some out, there are way more than the tree needs,” Ivan suggests, something in the teen’s tone that makes him think that there is more to the request than just decorating.

The crime lord nods slowly, standing back up to come over where they are sitting on the floor.

For a moment the tall man seems to debate sitting down or staying standing when Vanya suggests, "We can hand you the bulbs to hang up?"

"Yes," Aleksei agrees with a nod, "That'd be best."

"So, we'll pick them out and hand them to you to be hung up." Isha states, more like a summary to make sure he's alright with that plan.

"Sounds good to me," he responds, looking over the options and picking a box with multi-hued bulbs. Considering how colorful the tree is, they'll be perfect. He then grabs package of hooks, and sets to putting them on the bulbs, passing each to taller man as he finishes them.

Ivan selects a collection of blue and silver bulbs shaped like water drops to do the same with.

They spend a little while quietly putting the bulbs on hooks and passing them to the tall blonde. He watches out of the corner of his eye each time Ivan passes the bulbs how the crime lord's hand lingers for a second longer than necessary before he moves to hanging them up. Every time it happens, his son's smile seems to grow.

When the majority of the bulbs are on the tree, Isha stands up, stepping back and grinning before his features smooth back out and only the joy in hazel amber eyes remains.

"I think we did a good job," Ivan announces, a frown flickering across his face as he mutters, "I don't have a camera."

Rising, he comments, "Hold on, think I still have my polariod."

"Okay," his son agrees, stepping close to Aleksei and softly asking, "Are you alright?"

Stepping outside the family lounge, he thinks about where he had the camera last, before heading upstairs to his bedroom. Sure enough, it's tucked in the top of his dresser next to his regular camera. After checking to make sure both have film, he carries them downstairs and to the lounge. He snaps a picture with his camera, then a polaroid of the pair, smiling softly at the way his son is leaning against Aleksei's side but is actually supporting the taller man. He can see the exhaustion, but more importantly he can see the pleasure and simple happiness, in the crime lord's expression.

"I found both my cameras," he announces, noticing neither jumps so they probably realized he's there.

"Let's get some pictures," Ivan suggests, coming over to get the polaroid from him and taking a series of pictures of the tree. Afterwards, the teen hands the camera back to him, turning to Aleksei and suggesting, "Let's go sit down for a bit."

He can see the slightly pained expression that flashes across the crime lord's face.

Quietly, the two leave the family lounge, just as they reach the door, his son pauses, turning slightly towards him to state, "I had fun, maybe later we can put up the rest of the decorations somewhere."

Startled, he nods in agreement, "That'd be good."

Isha smiles at him, nodding once before they continue on their way, leaving him with a lot to think about.


	43. Blessed Christmas

Dmitri POV  
For the last few years, Christmas has not been a good time of year for their family. Inadequate housing, lack of access to good doctors, and generally not having enough money to supply enough food regularly, let alone a Christmas feast, have made it hard to celebrate the joys in life. Of course, his Khorya firmly believes in God, so she has faith that it's just a test and everything will work out in the end. Up until he started working for Jon, he'd disagreed but surprisingly enough, his teenage boss had renewed his faith. Something he's sure the teenager would arch a questioning, are you serious, eyebrow at.

In the three months since he started working for Jon they've been able to move into a slightly bigger home, one that is in better repair. Doctor Markov has seen Khorya without charging them, being far more active than her government provided doctor in her care. Their car has been repaired, while it is still not the best vehicle, it is better than walking or biking for Khorya. Food has not been scarce lately, they have been able to stock up and even plan a small feast for the holidays.

So he is surprised when the morning of December tenth a pair of men show up from an appliance store. They are there to collect his broken washer and dryer, and to install new ones. His soulmates can only stare as they do so. 

“Dima, who are these people, why are they here?” His wife asks, hand resting on top of her belly protectively. 

“Apparently my boss got us new appliances for Christmas,” he replies after reading the paperwork the men gave him a second time. It’s so very hard to believe, yet here it is in black and white. These brand new and warranted appliances were from his boss as a gift. 

“God be praised,” she murmurs, one hand etching the cross. 

When the men are done installing them, the shorter of the pair shows them how to work both. After they leave he feels bad that he can’t remember their names, thankfully they are on the paperwork, because Khorya wants to send them a thank you card. That morning, for the first time in months, they wash and dry their laundry in a relatively short period of time. The heat from the dryer fills the house, helping the furnace. They get all the laundry that has been falling behind caught up and put away. It’s wonderful.

“We must do something nice for him, he’s been so generous, God be praised,” Khorya declares when they talk her into sitting down for a little bit because she looks tired.

He nods in agreement, as does their husband who is getting ready to go get their son. 

“I’ll make dinner,” he offers suddenly, motioning to the kitchen around them and asking, “What do you want me to make?” 

“Something with chicken,” she answers with a watery smile. “Dima, we can do that, just pick what we want that day and make it, God be praised, Mr. Jon be blessed.”

He nods, walking over to her to give her a hug and kiss her forehead. “We can, we have that old chest freezer almost packed full of food. Our pantry is almost full. We have all of the basics, plus favorites.”

“God be praised,” she repeats, tears dripping out of the corners of her eyes. 

He wants to comfort her, promise everything will be alright, anything to stop the tears, but he learned when she was pregnant with Mika that sometimes the tears are just going to happen no matter what her mood is. So he just keeps his arms around her, kissing her forehead again and offering silent support. 

Eventually she stops crying and he feels better about stepping away from her. “I’m going to start cooking now,” he tells her, waiting for a nod that she will be alright before heading to the basement to get what he needs for dinner. He’s going to cook the chicken like a roast, with vegetables and spices in the oven. 

Dinner is a quiet affair, but a joyous one. They have plenty to eat. 

That night his soulmate names his boss in her prayers of thanks.

Over the next few weeks he hardly sees Jon, spending most of his time running errands for Svete and Gregor, occasionally Doctor Markov sends him on errands, and there are even a few times he gets brief directions from Jon, but he never has the time to actually speak with him. 

They each go shopping. Taking turns going in pairs, never leaving Khorya alone as she is very pregnant. She’s definitely bigger than she had been during her pregnancy with Mikhail. He just hasn’t gotten up the nerve to ask what Sergei already knows, whether it is singular or twins. The small collection of wrapped presents kept in the basement out if Mika’s line of sight and reach is bigger than it has been in any year since their son’s birth.

On the thirtieth of December he gets another surprise in the form of a rather large bonus, one that leaves him staring at the bank teller, asking her to repeat the number, because he’s sure it can’t be right, and yet it is. He doesn’t know how he is ever going to repay Jon for all of his kindness. Jon also gives him the next week off, with pay, so he can spend time with his family. It’s wonderful being able to take time off in order to spend time with them and not have to worry about how they are going to pay bills.

He takes care of the chores around the house, doing all of Khorya’s after talking his wife into spending some time relaxing or reading to Mika.

Three days before Christmas life takes a sudden and dramatic change: Khorya goes into labor three weeks early and none of the clinic’s obstetricians or midwives they call are available. Apparently they only have a skeleton crew for the holiday season and they are all taking care of other patients. They even try the hospital with the same sort of luck.

Sergei is the first to suggest calling his boss, after all his boss’ father is a doctor. 

He’s very hesitant to do so, not because he doesn’t like Doctor Markov but because he knows it’s their first Christmas together as a family. While it’s not actually Christmas day yet, he still doesn’t want to interrupt the holiday when Jon has already done so much for him. 

So it’s not surprising that Sergei is the one to grab the phone and make the call. 

“Hello?” His soulmate pauses, listening to someone, “Yes, my name’s Sergei Orlov, Dmitri’s husband, our wife Kharitina went into labor. We called the clinic to make arrangements to get her in as soon as possible but they said everyone is unavailable, checked with the hospital too but apparently all the birth rooms are full.” There is another pause and Sesha sighs in relief, “Thank you, thank you so much.”

Hanging the phone up, his husband glances over at him, “Doctor Markov said to bring her to the house?”

Nodding, he explains, “His office is on the first floor. When he’s not doing house calls, he works from his home.”

“We should get going, I’ll grab the car and get Khorya in it, you get Mika.” He suggests as he grabs the keys off the wall. 

His soulmate nods, quickly trotting up the stairs to wake their son because he is still in bed. 

After checking on her one more time, he heads out to the car, once more saying thanks to God that his boss is so generous because the car is fixed and will work. Once it is warming, he heads back inside to help Khorya to it, making sure to grab her small go bag. The four of them meet in the car, with Khory sliding in the back seat next to their son while Sergei grabs the driver’s seat and he gets the passengers. 

Less than half hour later they are pulling into his boss’ driveway. 

As soon as the car stops, Doctor Markov is there, a kind smile reassuring him that they are not imposing too much. 

“Pull the car in the garage once she’s inside,” his boss tells him, startling him because he hadn’t noticed Jon’s approach. 

“Uh, okay,” he responds with a nod, most of his attention on Khorya, Sesha, and the doctor.

“Nevermind, go inside with them, I’ll get the car,” Jon states, waving him towards the door. 

He quickly follows with Mikhail. Once in the house, he freezes for a moment as he realizes he has no idea what to do next. He’s surprised when Doctor Raskova comes striding in the front door with her female companion. 

“Don’t worry Dmitri, I’m sure between myself and Markov everything will be fine,” she tells him as she heads in the small patient room.

A heartbeat later his second soulmate is standing in the hall with him, staring at the door longingly. Both of them want to be in there, but the doctors have closed the door. 

Jon appears a few minutes later with a tray full of cups and snacks, he immediately takes it because he’s the assistant, he’s supposed to, only to find himself staring absently as his boss. 

“Take it and your family to the front lounge to wait.” The teenager orders him, pointing at the door to the front lounge. His head just bobs as he does what he is told on autopilot.

“Dima,” Sergei hesitantly asks, “Do you think she’ll be alright? It’s early, early is bad right?”

“Momma?” Mika nearly shrills upon hearing that.

He ends up spending the next little bit reassuring the pair of them that everything is alright, that everything will be alright, to have faith. 

He’s surprised when Jon steps in and suggests that they move to the back lounge instead. He knows that’s the family’s private area and doesn’t want to intrude, but his boss insists. When they get there, he understands why when he notices the small TV set to play cartoons right now, drawing Mika’s attention. There are also more snacks and the sofas are a bit more comfortable for them to sit on while they fret. Of course his boss vanishes again. 

Four hours later he is surprised when Jon comes in with grease and dirt on his clothes, “Go see your wife, I’ll watch Mikhail.”

He and Sergei share a quick look of confusion before standing and doing as told. A part of him is curious why his boss is dirty, it’s not a state he’s used to seeing the teenager in. However he is more concerned with his soulmate than his boss. At the patient room, they both freeze as they notice the door is open and they can only see Doctor Raskova.

“Come in you two, Markov went to find a few suitable bassinets for these two.” She tells them, waving them into the room where Khorya is lying propped up on a bed with pillows, a small infant cradled in each arm. 

Twins? He doesn’t remember Sergei or Kharitina telling him she was pregnant with twins. They only have the things for one newborn, not two. What are they going to do? They didn’t bring the car seat, but apparently they need two car seats and the car is not very big, it’ll be a tight fit. His mind goes a thousand miles an hour, with no end in sight. 

He accepts the infant tucked in his arms, his eyes shifting from his wife to the baby he’s now holding. 

“You are the proud parents of twins, male and female at first glance, but wait and see how they develop growing up.” Doctor Raskova tells them, “I’m going to step in the hall for a moment.”

He nods and then settles very carefully on the edge of the bed. 

“Khorya, they’re beautiful,” he just about whispers, not wanting to disturb the little one in his arms, “Just like you.”

“God’s blessed us,” she states sleepily, “They’re healthy. We’re healthy. God willing, everything will be fine.”

He nods in agreement, smiling softly at their babies and his soulmates. Life has definitely started looking up lately. He’ll panic about their lack of supplies later. For right now he’s just going to enjoy the fact he’s with their family.


	44. Unexected Conversation

Jon’s POV  
Last year he had forgotten Russians hold their Christmas in January until Svetlana and Gregor had wished him a Happy New Year and Merry Christmas on New Year’s Eve before leaving for seven days, resulting in him having the house to himself. He used that time frame to learn where everything was in the house. Including the hidden entrances he probably isn’t supposed to know about. The only room he hadn’t explored in detail was Valentin’s. When he hadn’t been exploring the house or working on his laptop, he explored the city, learning it’s layout from wandering around and the use of any maps he could get his hands on. He even befriended a couple of street kids and they showed him around the under city.

This year is going to be a lot different. For one thing, he has a soulmate who knows and actually wanted to stay with him. That’s still surprising him even two months later. His father is actually planning on spending the most of holiday with Alec and him. More surprising than that, Valentin has made arrangements for him to meet the rest of the triad family and his half-siblings.

It’s been awhile since he talked to that group of street kids, he thinks, maybe he should figure out where they are currently living and pay them a visit just to say hello.

Stretching, he boots off his laptop since he hadn’t actually been paying attention to it, so lost in thought, and gets up. Right now Alec is in the rehab room with Doctor Raskova and Bogdan. While he’s still a bit jealous of his soulmate’s second, he’s past the point where he wants to prove he’s the better choice. That stopped abruptly when Alec chose to _stay with him_ rather than _leave with them_.

Grabbing a change of clothes, one better selected for being outside in a Russian winter, he quickly changes. Once he is redressed, he heads to the other room to tell Alec he’s going out for a walk. At this point, his soulmate is past needing actual rehab and is instead using the equipment to get back in shape. He’d bet money that Alec keeps a functioning gym in his home.

“Going out?” Bogdan asks suspiciously.

It’s hard not to roll his eyes, he’s the teenager, so why does Alec’s second insist on acting like one more than him?

Keeping his focus on soulmate, he states, “I’m going for a walk while the weather is mostly clear, I should be back in less than four hours.”

“Isn’t four hours a bit long to be walking about even on a nice day?” the doctor queries curiously.

Unlike Bogdan, Raskova is a lot politer towards him. He would even suspect that she is trying to befriend him, but he can very easily remember how she had reacted to his care of Alec at first, so he doesn’t know if he believes it or not.

“I always give myself time for stopping in cafés for something warm to drink or stopping for food.” He replies, eyes flicking between her and his soulmate.

Alec looks at him speculatively for a few minutes before slowly nodding, then surprising him by asking, “Would you mind some company?”

Tipping his head slightly to the side, he considers the offer for a moment before slowly nodding. “I wouldn’t mind some company.”

Even on his days off, Valentin never offers to go walking with him. Normally, the only time he really spends with his father is meals and the occasional evening listening to music while each works on something separately. It’s been quite an adjustment compared to life with his parents who would regularly do things with him just to do them. 

Bogdan scowls only to be elbowed by the doctor.

“I think that’s a great idea.” Raskova announces, nudging the man next to her in order to catch his attention and give him orders, “Bogdan, go get the clothes I brought with us.”

It’s interesting to watch the way the pair has an entire conversation in looks. It’s not the sort of conversation his parents used to have related to being a couple, but the sort of conversation he used to be able to have with his dad or mum, sadly pops was the one he had the least connection to.

Huffing in annoyance, the tall man does as directed.

“I’m going to take a quick shower,” Alec comments as he walks over to where he is standing.

He’s not sure what that’s about but he nods in understanding, “Make sure you dry your hair,” he suggests, hand absently coming up to touch one of the sardonyx locks that’s fallen across his spy’s face.

The hints of a smile and a slight nod are his only answer before he drops his hand and watches the older man leave.

“I’m surprised by him, and you for that matter.” Raskova remarks when they are alone.

He glances over at the tall woman, not asking what she is talking about. He’s moderately certain she’s the type that silence works better with.

“He doesn’t like people. Not really. Dayushka, Petya and me are about it, and there are times I wonder why us.” She continues softly, eyes so very serious as she keeps one on him and keeps glancing at the door. “You know about the other one?”

He hisses angrily before he can stop himself, “Yeah, I know about the other one.”

“He broke Alec’s heart,” she states sadly, “and I thought his trust for the longest time. It’s still surprising he trusts us. But more than that: he _trusts_ you.”

Turning to face her head on, he demands, “Say whatever it is you’re dancing around.”

“Please don’t break his heart too,” she replies softly, almost beseechingly.

Startled, his eyes narrow on her and his brow furrows. Of all the things he thought she’d say that wasn’t one of them.

“Is he in love with you? I don’t know. What I do know is he cares more about you in the last few weeks than I have seen him care for anyone, and considering Dayushka and him were very close for a while, it’s quite a revelation to me.” She continues, sure of what she is saying according to the expression in her eyes. “I think he could fall for you. Depending on how you handle it, it could either be a long lasting and beautiful thing, or the worst thing to happen to him besides the other one.”

“I don’t plan to,” he responds firmly, knowing himself. He has already decided he will stay with Alec for as long as his soulmate wants him. Hopefully there is never a day where his spy tells him to leave, because that would break his heart. He’s already falling for the sardonyx blonde, even if he refuses to say so aloud, won’t risk himself like that after only a few months.

She looks like she is going to say something else, but her mouth falls shut as two sets of heavy footsteps approach.

Raskova’s lips quirk upwards in a smile as she remarks, “He’s normally much quieter than that.”

“Maybe he was being polite?” he replies with a smile of his own.

“Possibly, he can be a downright gentleman when he wants to be. The key is he has to want to be,” she says a bit playfully, chuckling when Bogdan and Alec come walking back in the room.

He turns towards the door smiling at the thick long coat, dark scarf and matched gloves, well fitted slacks, and heavy boots. He’d bet everything was custom made to be as warm and useful as possible. While he is pretty sure his soulmate doesn’t give much of a damn about looks, Alec does like things to be functional and comfortable.

“Ready?” he queries with a playful smile.

Alec just nods, a bit too serious considering this is supposed to be an enjoyable walk. Maybe he’ll ask about that while they're outside and there is no one to pay attention to them.

“We’re going to get going, however Dayushka wants to know if you two will come to the house for dinner on the second?” the doctor asks with a glance between them.

He shrugs at the questioning look his spy gives him, replying, “I think Valentin is spending the first through the third with his triad, the four to the sixth here, and then wants to have Christmas day at the triad house so I can meet the rest of the.”

She smiles, “Then I’ll send Petya with the car at five,” she tells him, not bothering to check with Bogdan to make sure that that plan works for his soulmate’s second.

He just chuckles as he watches the pair leaving. He could listen to their conversation if he wanted to, but he really doesn’t want to.

“Ready?” he queries.

“Yes,” Alec answers with a nod.

This should be an interesting walk he thinks.


	45. Enjoyable Walk

Alec’s POV  
He’s surprised when Jon comes into the gym area to tell them that he’s going out for a walk. They’re in Russia in the middle of winter, is his hacker insane? He can’t let the teen go out on his own. So he asks if Jon would mind him coming, and is almost surprised by the genuine surprise and pleasure shown at that idea as the younger man agrees. 

Raskova, intelligent woman that she is, had brought him a few more articles of clothing. She probably had Dayesi get them from his room since she knows he doesn’t really like people in there. 

Bogdan looks annoyed at the fact he’s apparently going for a walk in the middle of Moscow. Although he’s not sure if it is the walk or who he is taking it with that is the real annoyance. For some reason, his friend distrusts Jon and likes to try baiting the teen every chance he gets. He’s sure they’ll eventually figure out whatever their problem is.

When they leave the house, he is only mildly surprised at how at ease Jon is about walking around without any sort of protection. He knows that is one of the issues Bogdan has. 

“The trick is to always act like you belong, even when you don’t,” Jon comments out of the blue. “You kept giving me questioning looks,” the teen explains a moment later.

Chuckling, he nods, “It’s good advice,” he replies, the hints of a smile ghosting across his face. 

“Dad was full of good advice,” the hacker remarks, “and I follow most of it. Most mind you, not all.”

“Why only most of it?” he asks curious about the younger man’s motivation for not following all of it. 

“Some of it doesn’t apply to me and some of it causes more pain than it avoids,” Jon answers softly, taking a turn down an alley and continuing as if that’s a normal occurrence. 

His nerves don’t like to be in a spot that would be so easy to use as an ambush point.

“Hello Lena,” the hacker calls out, “Fair weather we’re having, figured I’d pop by and visit before the snow.” 

Even with his training it takes a moment to spot the woman near a dumpster. Everything about her is designed to hide her existence from the way she is dressed to the way she carries herself. She’d be pretty if she cleaned up, but he’s certain she doesn’t on purpose.

“Isha,” she replies with a nod, eyes narrowing on him and freezing in place like an animal noticing a predator is nearby. “Isha?”

Jon smiles at her warmly, answering the unspoken question in his name, “It’s safe. Aleksei Kirillovich, this is Elena Valerianonva, a very lovely lady who’s helped me when I’ve been lost in the past.” He doesn’t miss how the teen makes it seem like she is the one of status, and is doing him the honor of an introduction. 

The woman snorts, one hand going to her hip as she rolls her eyes, “If you’re ever lost, Isha, it’s because you wish to be.”

His hacker just grins at her.

“I’ll let the birdies know the coop is safe,” she remarks, nodding at him.

Still grinning, his soulmate replies, “Safe coops are fun places to be. Stay safe, Lena.”

“I’m not the one who likes eagles,” she retorts, voice full of amusement, “I should be telling you that Isha.”

Laughing softly, Jon keeps walking, emerging from the alley into a small business district. 

“Why the introduction?” he queries once they get further down the road, eyes scanning the area around them for any dangers. 

“I move about with street kids, sometimes I stop at an orphanage and see if any would like to help me for the day,” the teenager replies, “You’re the first person who’s older than me that I’ve had on one of my walks and you move like a predator, as I am sure you know. However I’m well aware you don’t prey on people like them, so I’m just letting them know that.”

He nods, thinking about the interaction and how easily Jon had spoke with her as if they’re old friends. Maybe they are. Considering how absent the doctor has been during his stay, and the fact the hacker acts like it’s normal to be forgotten, it makes sense he would have found people he felt he could relate to. How that translates to homeless people he doesn’t know, maybe because of being uprooted from everything he knows.

They continue their walk and Jon starts to talk about some of the sites they pass and some of the people they encounter. The teen doesn’t actually speak to most of them, nodding in greeting instead as they are mostly busy bustling around in preparation for Christmas. He asks questions when he thinks of them, but otherwise just enjoys the soft chattering of the younger man’s voice. 

Just over an hour after their walk starts, he realizes that his legs are beginning to tire, but doesn’t want to tell Jon. He refuses to put an end to something the hacker so obviously enjoys. 

Apparently his soulmate notices anyways because not long after he notices how fatigued he is, they walk into a café where the teen calls out a warm hello to the staff, each of them by name or by a diminutive.

“If you don’t mind using diminutives, why don’t you use them with the housekeeper or cook?” he asks curiously.

“They’ve never invited me to,” Jon answers with shrug.

He nods in understanding, thinking about that statement. Would he like Jon to use a diminutive of his name? Yes, his mind just about hisses at him, he would.

“I like how you say my name,” Jon surprises him by saying, “So very similar to how I am used to, with just a touch of a Russian accent to make it different.” The teen suddenly stops talking, face flushing red and he’s sure it’s not from the walk. 

He opens his mouth to say something, only to snap it closed when a tall person with dark eyes comes over. 

“Isha, doll, how are you? Are you finally on a real date? I didn’t peg you for preferring men, actually I didn’t think you preferred anything,” the person rattles, not actually giving his hacker a chance to answer. “Let me go get your tea while you show your handsome date our menu.” The person sets the menu down and walks away before Jon gets a chance to say something.

“That whirlwind is Vasya Zakhar,” his companion tells him with a warm smile. “One of the nicest hosts you can ever hope to get.”

He blinks, there are no gender markers in that name and Russian names always have gender markers. Vasya can belong to Vasilii or Vasilisia as a diminutive. 

“The polite thing to do is use Vasya, they and them.” Jon tells him, answering the question he’s been trying to figure out while they wait. “Vasya’s a bit more fluid than most people I’ve met, and we have had many lively discussions about it. It took some adapting to remember.”

He nods slowly. He’ll trust his soulmate to know what’s here. He spent so much time trying to figure it out that he forgot to actually look at the menu.

“Here’s your tea, sweetheart, and I brought coffee for your date, he looks like a coffee person,” Vasya announces as they set the mugs with steaming liquid down. “We have black cherry as the special of the day.” Grabbing a pad of paper and a pen, they ask, “What would you like today?”

“What’s the special?” the teen asks, not even bothering to look at the menu.

“Roast beef sandwiches with mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, borsch, and baked chicken with steamed vegetable mix.” Vasya answers happily. 

“The roast beef please,” his soulmate decides.

“For you hun?” they query looking at him and smiling warmly. 

He’s moderately certain that Vasya is a woman, but he’s going to stick with playing nice because he is trying to impress his soulmate, and that means being respectful even when he doesn’t get it. Of course, he’d either try to be respectful even if younger man wasn’t around or completely ignore the situation and just use the most generic terms he could think of.

“The same,” he decides. 

“Great, I’ll be back to check on you in a bit,” they happily exclaim before just about dancing away. 

“Yeah, they’re always like that.” Jon comments with a smile. After taking a sip of his tea, his soulmate mumbles, “Thank you for coming with, I’ve been enjoying the company.”

He nods, smiling back at the younger man and replying, “It’s been,” he tries to think of an appropriate word for the walk so far, “fun.” 

His hacker laughs softly at that, “Fun huh? As in it’s been nerve wracking and a bit awkward or enjoyable?”

“Nerve wracking and enjoyable,” he decides after a moment of thinking about it. 

The younger man smiles at him, a warm smile that makes him relax into the seat, and try to just enjoy himself instead of overthinking. He should try picking a topic and starting the conversation rather than making his soulmate do it all the time. What’s public appropriate? He wonders, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. 

Concern fills the teen’s eyes, “Are you alright?” 

“Yes,” he replies, dropping his hand and trying not to blush. He’s acting like he’s the teenager of the pair with no idea what to do on a date. Is this a date? Their host seems to think it is. Jon hasn’t corrected that assumption. He’s moderately sure that if Jon had a problem with it, he’d say so. “There’s nothing wrong,” he states softly, “I’ve just been thinking about the walk so far.”

For a moment it looks like his soulmate is going to question that statement, but instead the teen nods sharply once. “Okay.” Glancing around, the younger man remarks, “This is one of my favorite places to stop. They always have good food, and no matter whom I am with they are always nice, and not that business sort of nice either.”

He tries for playful when he asks, “Come here often do you?”

“Only when I can’t sleep, they’re a twenty-four hour café,” the teen answers seriously. Shrugging, the younger man continues with, “I have a lot of time on my own. Aither’s great and all, but sometimes I need a person to talk with that I can look at, rather than a computer screen or the occasional phone call.”

Nodding, he has to fight back to the urge to find Markov and knock some sense into the doctor, or find a phone to call Dayesi and have her go knock some sense into the man. He understands being busy, but how much did the doctor ignore his son that Jon felt homeless people were the best options for companions.

“Whoever you’re considering blowing up, please wait until you can go more than a few miles without getting tired,” his soulmate suggests with the hints of a smile playing at the edge of his lips. 

That startles a chuckle out of him, because he does like blowing things up, and he’s good at it to. “I wasn’t thinking of blowing anything up,” he denies with a smile of his own, “Just thinking of using someone’s face as a punching bag.” He’s not mentioning it’s Markov he’s considering doing that to. That’d cause issues he’s sure. Bad form to want to beat the living hell out of a possible-father-in-law

“Ummmhmmm,” the teenager hums, eyeing him speculatively. 

Before he has a chance to respond, Vasya returns with their meals, humming happily, they set the plates down before glancing at their mugs and announcing, “I’ll get you more drinks.”

“Thank you, Vasya,” Jon comments, tipping his head to meet their eyes. 

“Always, doll,” they respond before heading to the back again. 

“Does,” he pauses realizing that sentence won’t work for politely, so he rewords it. “Do they always do that?”

“Yeah, Vasya’s great,” his soulmate answers with another smile. 

After they bring fresh drinks, and Jon thanks them one more time, the host withdraws again.

He glances between their meals and his soulmate, voice barely above a whisper as he asks, “Is it a date?”

Blushing, the teen drops his silverware, almost stuttering as he responds, “I don’t know?” it’s the most unsure of himself he has seen Jon be to date. “We haven’t really discussed anything, I just,” the teen shrugs and he hears the unspoken fears, the idea that he’ll leave, that Jon will be alone again. 

Setting his fork down, he nods slowly, switching to English as he states, “We haven’t, we will, just,” he trails off, not sure what to say. “Not yet.”

“Okay,” Jon replies softly, a relieved smile crossing the younger man’s lips. 

The rest of the meal passes quietly, and he mildly surprised when Jon doesn’t get a bill. Of course his soulmate explain as they are leaving. Apparently the previous summer Jon was able to help them when they were in deep trouble and political red tape would make it impossible to get assistance, now the owner refuses to accept payment from his soulmate and has instructed the staff to do the same. 

Returning to their walk, he finds he’s still a bit tired but better after resting. He’s curious where they are going next but doesn’t ask. Instead he just enjoys the time spent with his soulmate. He uses when they are not talking to think about diminutives and nicknames, deciding he’d like it if Jon had one for him. From there his thoughts turn to whether or not he has any for the teenager since he hasn’t used any yet with Jon and he realizes he has two so far: Vansha and Rowan.

He’s not sure what their relationship is at this time. A fact he had keenly felt when buying gifts for Jon for Christmas. He couldn’t think of what to call Jon. He hadn’t wanted to use his soulmate’s English name, that’s too easy to trace, easier to remember. Yet he hadn’t wanted to use the rather impersonal Ivan. So he used a diminutive of it: Vansha, a name for a friend or relative, some closer than a stranger but maybe not more. 

Rowan: the soulmark that takes up their sides. Jon’s takes up far more than his, but he’s moderately sure that’s because of the fact he has a bigger build than the teen. A part of him wonders if it isn’t also a matter of faith. Before James tried to kill him, and nearly succeeded, the storm clouds were almost as big as the tree. On him the clouds took up the upper part of his torso, including up over his shoulder and partly down his arm with lightning. Only it doesn’t look like that anymore, it’s shrunk down to only a quarter of its original size, turned dark and sickly, and always hot to the touch. The rowan on the other hand, it hasn’t grown but it has blossomed. Instead of being a nameless tree, one he can’t identify, it became defined. 

Jon’s that Rowan. 

Rowan, a tree considered protective by some, healing by others, a blessing or a curse. All things his teenage soulmate has been since he woke up. Even before he knew why, Jon protected him, even from himself when he’d lash out. The fact his teenage soulmate help put his bones back in place is still hard to wrap his mind around. James helped stitch him up plenty of times in the field, but that’s because they were both spies and both in the military, knowing tricks like that can save a life, but Jon’s not. His Rowan is a teenage hacker, medical training isn’t something he has, yet he is the one to help, and successfully. At least, Jon’s never mentioned any medical training, and when asked if he had an interest in becoming a doctor he had said no. Blessing and curse, he’s alive when he should have been dead. He had wanted to be dead for the first week awake, and feels like he’s not worth his Rowan. 

“You’re lost in your thoughts again,” Jon remarks, humor filling his voice, “Extremely lost in thought.”

He blinks, looking around and realizing they are nowhere near where they came from and his legs feel like they are on fire. Quietly, the teenager leads them into a nearby store. 

“Hey Nikki mind if Aleksei uses the chair in the back for a bit?” Jon asks the girl behind the counter in the small store they’ve stopped in. 

She smiles at his hacker, giving a small shake of her head, “Go ahead.” 

“Thanks,” his Rowan replies leading him through the store to a small office where an armchair is snuggled in the corner. 

He just arches an eyebrow when Jon lightly pushes him towards it. 

“I helped get her the job right before I met you,” his hacker answers the unspoken question. “The owner is a decent man, older, his triad never had kids because of health problems, they wanted to adopt but couldn’t for the same reason. I introduced her, her brother, and another kid to them.”

He nods in understanding. 

“Now, I’ll be back in under half hour, but you can find me in the store if your legs stop aching before that,” Jon tells him, absently brushes his dark blonde hair away from his face. 

“I’ll be fine,” he replies softly. 

Nodding, the teen exits the room, and he listens as the younger man calls out another greeting.

Sitting back, he relaxes in the chair, glancing around and thinking about the trip so far. He had intended to spend time with Jon, not spend the most of the walk lost in his own thoughts. 

Why have they stopped here? He wonders as he glances around, hands rubbing his legs. There has to be a reason more than to let him get a break, he’s sure Jon knows a number of places he could rest at. Rest. That just pisses him off because he shouldn’t need rest. He was a Double-O, the best the spy world has to offer. He was a marine. It shouldn’t be taking so long to heal from his injuries. 

He forces his mind away from that train of thought and exactly how pissed he currently is about it. 

Fifteen minutes after Jon walked away, he stands up, holding back a growl of frustration because he _hurts_.

A feeling of dread fills him. His instincts scream he needs to find Jon _now_. Ignoring the pain, he leaves the small room with the comfortable chair to look for his soulmate. Where’s Jon? He has to find Jon. He’s happy when he realizes he’s taller than the shelves and quickly spots the teenager on the other side of the store. Now he just has to get to him before something goes wrong. 

Spotting him, his hacker quickly closes the distance between them.

“Are you alright?” Jon asks as soon as the younger man is beside him, quietly stepping beside him, arm automatically wrapping around his waist. 

He leans into that contact, taking a moment to calm himself down because Jon’s right here and there is nothing wrong. Why are his instincts saying there was something wrong? 

He’s just opened his mouth to respond when a man comes barging in, gun in hand, yelling that he wants everyone’s money. 

His first instinct is to step in front of his soulmate. When he goes to move, Jon’s arm tightens and he finds he can’t, which has him glancing over at the smaller man.

Jon just gives a subtle shake of his head, holding his other hand up for him to stop. 

Carefully, his Rowan let’s go, hand still in the stop position until he nods slowly, not liking it and already plotting how to end this situation. 

“Hello,” Jon greets the robber gently, stepping forward and drawing the man with a gun’s attention. “I’m betting you have a reason for this sort of behavior. Maybe a family at home? Now’s not the season for doing this sort of thing. Really, never is, but this is when people are supposed to be with loved ones, friends and family.” 

The man with the gun waivers, eyes showing his obvious confusion and the teen slowly advances forward. 

“Why don’t you put that down, Nikki’s not calling the police, and we can discuss why you thought it’d be a good idea.” Jon suggests softly, voice surprisingly warm considering he’s talking to a man pointing a gun at him. 

He spots a shelf with cheap pocket knives, while not ideal, they’ll work for this. He starts to inch sideways, only to have the gun trained on him suddenly, and Jon step directly in front of it, still using the soft voice to try and comfort the robber. 

“Put the gun down, nobody can help you if you have the gun, but I’ll help you if you put it down.” 

“Why would you?” the man just about shouts. 

Nikki is the one to timidly answer, “He does that, helps people, even people who try robbing him.”

When he realizes whatever it is Jon is doing is working, he freezes in place.

“Just lower the gun, we’ll discuss it, and I’ll probably help you, but if you hurt any of these people, you really won’t like the results.” It’s then he realizes his soulmate has shifted closer to the shelves, and he had been absently shifting with him, so he’s now within range of grabbing one of those knives.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, the man with the gun lowers it. Still looking confused and still able to fire, the man asks again, “Why?”

“Like she said, it’s sort of what I do.” Jon takes half a step forward, “It’s what my da did, and he was a firm believer in giving second chances unless those chances aren’t wanted. I could probably give you a phone book worth of people I’ve helped for that very reason.” His Rowan is still slipping forward, so they are almost within touching distance, “The question is: do you want that chance?”

The man blinks at him, looking at the teen like he just realized exactly how close the younger man is. 

Before the robber can do anything, in a blur of motion Jon’s left hand shoots out, deftly taking the gun from the robber as he hops backwards. 

“Now, do you want that chance or would you rather Nikki call the police?” Jon asks not turning his back on the robber, but stepping backwards with measured steps until Jon is right in front of him.

He can’t stop the chuckle when his hackers arm folds behind him and offers him the gun. 

“How? What? Why?” The robber seems lost, eyes the door like he wants to bolt but is frozen in place.

“I’d take the help,” Nikki suggests, “He helped my brother and me get off the street.”

He takes the gun with his right hand, thankfully his aim is just as good with either hand, but that’s not the point as a moment later he starts laughing because the guns not actually loaded according to its weight.

Opening the top of it, he checks to see if there is a bullet there and laughs even harder, because there isn’t. In English he tells Jon, “He was trying to rob this place with an empty weapon.”

He spots the way his soulmate’s lips curve upwards, the slight nod to signify he heard. 

“How many people would offer to help you after you tried robbing them?” Nikki asks dryly, the fear leaving her voice now that the robber doesn’t have the gun. “Really, you should take the help or leave.”

“Is it safe to finish shopping?” an older lady who was in the other corner asks.

“Yes ma’am,” Jon replies, “There’s not going to be any more issues, right?” his soulmate meets the other man’s eyes, tone firm but still gentle. 

“Right,” the robber answers, slowly walking towards them, putting him on guard again.

“There’s a café two doors down, let’s go have a chat,” his hacker suggests, and then glances over to the cashier, “I’ll send Dmitri,” he pauses for a moment. “You don’t know Dmitri.” Sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he thinks about the situation for a minute, before continuing, “Please get the order ready, I’ll pop back by before going home so I can pay for it and give you some extra money to deliver it?” 

Nikki nods, “I can do that, I’ll make sure they know you say hi, you’ve been missed.” 

Jon shrugs a shoulder, “Probably not, I’m easy to forget, but do wish them a merry Christmas from me.”

A minute later Jon turns to him with a smile, “I can call you a ride back if you’d like?” 

“I’ll call Bogdan when we’re done,” he replies, determined not to leave his soulmate alone with this apparent idiot. 

Warmth fills Jon’s eyes and smile as his hacker slowly nods. 

He tucks the empty gun in his coat, looping an arm lightly across Jon’s shoulders as the teen turns back towards the robber who’s staring at them with wide eyes and a lost expression. 

“Come on, my treat,” Jon tells the other man, leading their small group out of the store, one arm sneaking around him. 

A few minutes later they are sitting in another café, this time Jon is quizzing the man about his situation and what led to the scene in the store. As the conversation continues, he finds himself leaning into Jon’s side, his entire body hurts and he’s tired but he refuses to go. It’s interesting the way Jon gathers information, and he is sure the hacker will confirm later. A plan is outlined and agreed on, with the other man hesitantly agreeing to meet the following morning to finalize things. 

“If between tonight and tomorrow you decide to renegade on the agreement, and I find out about it, you really will not like how I get even,” Jon informs the man, Nikanor, coolly. The first time during this entire situation Jon’s voice has lost its warmth. 

“I won’t! I swear by all that’s holy, if you’re really going to help me, I won’t!” Nikanor quickly exclaims, eyes wide in terror.

Smiling once more, the warmth returning to his voice, his hacker replies, “Great, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. If you wanna talk to people who know me, stop by the Golden Rose Café.”

The man nods, head bobbing rapidly as he stands, “Of course! Thank you, thank you so much!” Nikanor takes the bag full of meals to go and leaves with it tugged close to his chest. 

Turning to the waitress, Jon asks, “Mind if I use the phone for a minute?”

“Go ahead Ivan Valentinovich, I see you’re at your tricks again. I was wondering where you vanished to the last few months.” The waitress answers with a smile. 

“Thanks,” Jon replies before looking him and commenting, “Phones in the back, so I will be right back.”

Now that Nikanor is gone, he lets go and nods, “I’ll be here.”

Jon returns a few minutes later, a smile playing the edge of his lips. “Bogdan will be here in ten minutes.”

He just laughs, tugging his Rowan back into the seat beside him. Of course his hacker has their numbers even though he never gave them to him.


	46. Dinner with Friends

Nadiya’s POV  
She loves Christmas time. She loves the snow on the trees and the frost on the windows. She loves curling up in front of the fireplace with Marusha and a book or dancing in the kitchen as she cooks their Christmas dinner with Petyai or snuggling between her soulmates at night. They haven’t formalized their union, but that doesn’t matter to her. They’re together, that’s all that counts. 

Tonight they are going over to Dayesi and Lidiya’s home for the annual dinner so she is making a cake to take with.

 _"What are you doing?"_ Marie asks after she taps lightly on the counter to catch her attention first.

 _"Making a cake to take to dinner tonight. There’s going to be a new person. Petyai doesn’t like him much, says Ivan knows too much,"_  she replies happily.   _"Want to help?"_

Smiling at her, Marusha crosses to stand beside her, _"I’d love to."_

That how their soulmate finds them two hours later, working together in the kitchen to make cakes and clean up the mess.

Oo-O-oO

Lilidya's POV  
She hums as she dances around her kitchen happily preparing the stuff to make dinner. She’s excited for tonight. Everyone in their dysfunctional family is going to be there. Petya is bringing his triad members, Jon and Alec will be there, and of course her Dayushka will be here since she lives here too. 

It’s bound to be interesting as Marie uses Russian Sign Language and she doesn’t know if Jon knows any sort of sign language or not. 

What she is most excited about is the chance to watch Alec with Jon. While she didn't mind sharing Dayushka with Alec, he never really seemed content. In the few weeks since she met Jon and seen them together, she's seen a totally different side of Alec.

Smiling fondly, she stops for a moment. Alec had been almost awkward about ordering Jon’s Christmas gifts. He had hesitated on what to call him, and when he did, he almost said Vansha possessively. Of course she understood immediately what the designs he wanted on the sheaths mean. They’re their soulmarks. She could have just hugged him in joy, but she refrained because you don’t do that where potential dangers can see. Didn’t stop her from quizzing him as soon as they were in the car.

"What are you smiling at like the cat who caught the canary?" Her girlfriend asks as Dayusha slips her arms around her. 

Chuckling, she spins around to kiss her shorter love, answering, "Alec and Jon."

Laughing, Dayesi nods in agreement, "That does seem to make you happy."

"You saw his face whenever Jon's in the room, haven't you?" She queries, "His attention is on the hacker more than anyone or anything else."

Dayesi just nods, lips quirked up in a playful smile.

Before she has a chance to say anything, Alec's cat Rory, a green eyed menace if you ask Petya, jumps on the counter and mers at them loudly. It's the same sort of noise he has made several times since Alec left him in their care six months ago. 

Stepping away from her lover, she carefully rubs behind his head, soothing him and saying, "Alec will be here tonight, you can tell him all about how you feel."

That gets her a brief rumbling purr of agreement, at least she thinks it's agreement, before he hops off and walks away.

"What all are you making?" Her girlfriend asks curiously, glancing at the piles of sliced and diced fruits and vegetables on the counter. 

"Ham, Hawaiian stuffing, caramelized carrots, kutya, pagach, fruit muffins, steamed potatoes, fresh fruit and nuts." She replies, most of what she is making is the traditional Christmas foods. Since Petya spends the holiday with Nadiya's family, and she's hoping Alec is going to accept the offer to be with Jon's family for this holiday, she wants them to have their Christmas meal tonight. 

Her Dayushka just laughs softly, "You really are the sweetest one."

"Are you going to help or vanish on me?" She asks playfully, hip bumping her lover.

"Pass the fruit, I'll do the rest of the dicing for them," Dayesi replies with a smirk. 

"Any reason to play with a knife," she snickers.

Standing on her toes, her girlfriend presses a soft kiss to her jaw, "Of course."

She just laughs, and returns to her preparations, her love now helping her. Who would have guessed being kidnapped and given to an assassin would lead to such a good life? Definitely not her back then, but it really has. She's got a family, a good job, a nice home. Life's great here.

Sometimes she misses her family, but they died after she was taken and she didn't find out about it until she got back from Britain after finishing her residency. She's sure they would have liked her new family, once they got past the oddness of them all. Her mum would have liked how sweet Dayushka treats her.

Four hours later the food is cooking, and she's surveying the kitchen with pleasure, arms wrapped around her short girlfriend, chin resting on her head. 

"We're a good team," she decides, very happy how everything is going. 

"Yes we are." Dayushka agrees.

"Should we decorate?" She wonders as she glances around.

"Think we could decorate between now and then?" Her girlfriend asks curiously, "Where are you wanting to decorate?"

"The living room and dining room," she replies, "If only for a few days."

Her lover is not the biggest on decorations. So she's surprised when Dayushka agrees, "Let's do it."

So they fetch the decorations out of the attic and start putting them up. They start with the tree, it's just a little one but it works well for them. Once the lights, tinsel, and ornaments are on it they move on to working on the decorations in the dining room.

When they're done, she beams at the way it looks. 

"Thank you, Dayushka," she tells her love.

"Always, Lidisha," her assassin answers, giving her a quick hug.

"I'm going to go get cleaned up," she tells her girlfriend with a smile. 

"Want me to join you?" the petite woman replies, eyes bright with desire. 

Giggling, she pecks Dayesi on the nose with a quick kiss before skipping off, "No! We wouldn't be ready in time. You use the downstairs bathroom instead." Giggling harder she declares, "I'll lock the door!" Like that would do any good, she's well aware of her love's talents for getting through locks.

Less than an hour later they meet back up in the living room. She’s changed into one of the outfits her mum got her for Christmas the year before life dramatically changed. Thankfully, miraculously, all of her family’s things went into storage instead of being sold off when her parents died. So she was able to get them out and use most of it, selling the pieces she didn’t want or need. 

“Ready!” she announces with a pleased smile when she spots the fact her girlfriend decided on silver and white, Christmas colors rather than her normal darker colored clothes. 

Dayushka opens her mouth to reply when the doorbell chimes, telling them the first of their company is there. 

“I’ll get it,” she tells her lover, remembering the time Dayesi scared the hell out of the delivery man and she had to bribe them to start making deliveries again at the store she prefers.

Her love just smiles at her mischievously, turning to head into the dining room. Hopefully her girlfriend is setting the table. 

Walking over to the door she opens it and practically beams when she spots who it is. “Hello ladies!” she greets them in both verbal Russian and it’s accompanying sign language. 

“We brought a guest, I hope that’s alright?” Nadiya comments shyly, stepping to the side so she can see who’s with them. 

Her eyes flick between the two women and to the person standing just a little behind them. She’s not sure her smile can grow any bigger, as she happily exclaims, “Grandmama Vera! Dayushka is going to be so happy to see you! Come in, come in.”

“Calm down girl, so much excitement is bad for your health,” the old woman responds firmly but her mirth sparkling eyes give away her amusement. 

“Who am I going to be happy to see?” her lover asks, slipping up beside her as the other three come in. 

She doesn’t bother to answer the question because a moment later her girlfriend sees Grandmama Vera and grins at the older woman, snapping a salute before hugging her. 

Nadiya and Marie just stare at the interaction in shock. It’s the most emotional either lady has seen her lover be.

After she closes the door, she turns to the ladies. "They're very fond of each other," she tells her guests, hands moving quickly in sign.

" _So I see_." Marie comments, an amused smile curving her lips. " _Do they see each other often_?"

" _No_ ," she replies, " _Work tends to limit how often we can visit_." 

Both of their guests nod.

Marie comments, " _We brought cake_ ," and motions to her soulmate.

Following the hand, she realizes that Nadiya is holding a cake pan and quickly takes it, "Thank you, please, make yourself comfortable." She remarks, smiling at both of them as she turns to go in the kitchen to put the cake up for now.

Returning from the kitchen, she spots the ladies looking around at their decorations, discussing the fact there seems to be more of them than normal. 

" _Yes_ ," she agrees, " _I was very happy when Dayushka agreed to actually help me put them up so I wasn't doing it alone at the last minute since I always seem to forget_."

" _Is it you forget or you know she doesn't really like them so you don't put them up as soon as a compromise_?" Marie queries, head tilting inquisitively. 

She stops, thinking about it for a moment before slowly nodding, " _That might be it."_

"Lidisha, I'm going to show Grandmama Vera the collection I keep upstairs." Dayesi comments, the brightness of her smile telling her exactly what her lover is showing.

"Hmmm?" Nadiya hums questioningly. 

Marie arching a curious eyebrow.

 _"Dayesi is an amateur historian,"_ she answers, _"She keeps a collection of articles of the Era and about the women snipers."_

 _"That makes sense,"_ Marie states, her expression thoughtful. _"Has she always been interested in the past?"_

 _"As long as I've known her,"_ she replies with a fond smile. _"Would you like something to drink? We have hot tea, coffee, eggnog, and spiced cider."_

Glancing between them, she realize that the third member of their triad isn't with them when she was expecting him to be.

 _“Where’s Pyotr?”_ she inquires curiously. 

“He’s going to pick up Alec and Jon,” Nadiya answers, signing it as well. 

She nods in understanding. 

_”Some cider would be welcome,”_ Marie answers her earlier question. 

Smiling, she glances at Nadiya to see what she’d liked to drink, “Eggnog please.”

 _“Coming right up,”_ she answers with a nod of agreement. She’ll get herself eggnog. Turning to head into her kitchen, she wonders for a moment if she should add cocoa to her list and decides against it. She’s never offered it at Christmas before and as far as she knows, Jon prefers to drink tea.

She’s just finished pouring the eggnog when she hears the front door open. The other three must be here, she thinks, grabbing the heated cider and pouring a glass. Sure enough, when she gets back in the living room, Pyotr is making the introductions, skin flushed pink.

She blinks at Jon, suddenly wondering if he knows sign language. Why didn’t she think to ask? The sound of her timer goes off and she turns to head into the kitchen, totally forgetting to ask again. When she gets back it’s to Marie asking about it. 

_“Just go slow, I catch on fast,”_ Jon answers in BSL.

“You didn’t mention that when you listed your languages,” Alec comments, arching a dark blonde brow at the teenager. 

“I don’t consider myself knowing it,” Jon replies eyes not leaving Marie’s face. “I only list the languages I can do reflexively.”

 _”I read lips too,”_ she remarks, _”If that would be easier?”_

 _”I’ll never get it right if I never practice,”_ the hacker responds with a small smile.

Marie and Nadiya nod in agreement. Alec just chuckles. Petya looks so very frustrated, which isn’t overly surprising since he has a hard time with RSL, let alone BSL. The only reason she knows both is her time in Britain for medical school. She hadn’t realized that Marie knew BSL, she only knew the deaf woman could use DGS and both versions of the Russian languages.  

She snickers as the three of them start discussing what Nadiya does for a living, which leads to them discussing books. It’s remarkable how fast Jon seems to pick up on the conversation, only occasionally stopping it to ask for a point of clarification or have one of the ladies re-sign something if he missed it. Through it all, Petya looks like he’s trying not to scowl. 

Chuckling, she just smiles at them. 

“Where’s Rory?” Alec queries, glancing around, his cat is normally on him as soon as he is back from whatever reason he’s being left behind. 

“Around, I’m sure.” She replies, watching the way the teenager goes stiff beside her friend for a moment before appearing to force himself to relax. What’s that about? She wonders. Instead she asks Alec, “How’s the physical therapy doing?” She probably already knows based on what she’s seen in recent weeks, but it’s still good to ask since she doesn’t actually help with the PT for his hands and wrists. 

Before Alec has a chance to answer she hears the upstairs bedroom door open and decides to mention their guest, “The ladies brought Grandmama Vera with them.”

The spy nods in understanding, hand tightening slightly against the hacker’s shirt, almost reflexively. 

Now that’s interesting, not the sort of reaction she expected. Why did he do that? Wait. _Oh_. What if he is worried about Grandmama asking about their triad? That could be a bit difficult. Hopefully Dayushka filled her in about that. 

“I’m sure it will be fine,” she tells him, trying for optimistic and not sure she’s succeeding. 

He just nods, but she can tell he doesn’t really believe her.

A moment later, Rory comes strolling in the room like he owns the place. As soon as the tortoise shell tabby sees Alec he bolts across the room, just about throwing himself at the spy and startling Jon. 

“This is Rory,” Alec tells his soulmate, skin an interesting shade of carmine.

“I was wondering,” Jon replies with a relieved smile. 

Why is his smile relieved? She wonders, considering asking when she hears the last timer go off. 

“Excuse me please,” she states as she stands, signing it to Marie. 

All of them nod. 

Heading to the kitchen, she ends up running into Grandmama Vera and Dayushka on the stairs still talking animatedly about the rifle collection her lover keeps in their bedroom closet gun case.

“I’m pulling dinner out of the oven if you want to start herding them towards the dining room,” she tells her lover.

“Herding?” Grandmama Vera repeats dryly. 

“Well, I think Petya might be a little jealous of Jon, and Jon, Marie and Nadiya are all discussing books in British Sign Language.” She replies with a smile, “So I think it might take some effort to get them moving.” Snickering, she comments, “Rory is also very determinedly on Alec’s lap.”

Dayesi chuckles, “That didn’t take long.”

“Does Petya have a reason to be jealous?” Grandmama Vera asks directly. 

“I don’t think so.” She answers honestly, “Despite his focus being on the conversation and working with sign language, if Alec was to make any noises to signal discomfort, Jon’s attention would immediately shift. I’m not even sure he realizes exactly how closely he’s paying attention.”

“Oh he knows, that boy is just about unnatural for how much he knows,” her lover comments, “I think his focus isn’t on the other two as much as you think.”

“Why?” she asks curiously, Dayesi hasn’t seen the conversation. 

“Because of how he can run multiple computer codes, carry on a conversation, and still know when Alec needs to rest even when he’s not focused.” Her girlfriend explains, sighing dramatically, “He’d have made a great spy.”

“Instead he is just a soulmate to one,” Grandmama Vera remarks with an almost playful smile. 

She sighs in relief, so Dayushka told her. 

“Go collect the others. I will assist Lilya with dinner.” Grandmama Vera orders her lover, waving her away. 

Dayesi hesitates for a moment before nodding and doing as directed after glancing at her. 

“Are you really fine with losing the third member of your triad?” the old woman asks pointedly as they head into the kitchen. “You don’t feel things the same way Dashenka does.”

Grabbing an extra pair of oven mitts out for her companion, she hands them over and answers, “Yes. Wait until you see them together, you’ll understand, those two fit so well. Which you wouldn’t think a teenage hacker and a spy a decade older would be a match but they are.”

Grandmama Vera nods in understanding, “Sometimes it’s good from the beginning.” A wistful smile curves the older woman’s lips and her eyes seem far away as if remembering another time and place. 

Considering it was just a little over a year ago since they buried Grandfather Viktor, the last member of her generation for any of Petya’s grandparents, that’s very understandable. Even most of Petya’s parent’s generation is dead, lost to war and illness.

“Yes,” she agrees, “Sometimes it’s good from the beginning. Although,” she chuckles, “Alec didn’t know they were soulmates when he first decided he wanted Jon. Maybe a little older, but still wanted him.” 

“The soulmate draw,” Grandmama Vera comments, “it’s rare but sometimes soulmates feel drawn together, as if there is something guiding them to each other.” 

She nods, listening and smiling a bit wistfully, her soulmates are dead, at least that’s what she thinks since the marks vanished close together from her skin. Now she has a single mark, a Rod of Asclepius with a crossed knife and gun behind it. It’s perfect for her relationship with Dayushka. 

“Thank you for understanding,” she comments as they get ready to start carrying things to the other room.

“Why wouldn’t I? I grew up in an age where marriages were automatically annulled if a soulmate challenged it. In a time where soulmates were automatically considered married whether they wanted to be or not.” The older woman remarks with a tired shrug, “There was none of this political nonsense about only accepting a soulmate of the same or higher social status.” 

She smiles, nodding in agreement. “I don’t know if Alec is planning on telling Nadiya and Marie, though I think they’d have to be blind to miss it.”

Grandmama Vera nods, “Taking their time?” She nods, “That’s good, builds a strong base to form their relationship on, none of this fluttery heart, love at first sight like in the books. Pah, you know nothing, _nothing_ , about each other. There is no way for love to form, only lust. Lust is not a strong relationship builder as Alec well knows.” 

That makes her blink because she hadn’t realized Grandmama knew. 

“We’ve talked, girl, while he was drunk one night after getting injured. I had stopped by to see my grandson, found Petya unconscious from too much vodka and Alec wallowing.” The older woman explains, “It was a good conversation anyways. Let’s get this food out there. They must surely be herded by now.”

She can’t help it, she starts laughing. Tonight’s going to go even better than she planned. That’s _wonderful_.


	47. Days Between

Jon’s POV  
They are on their way back from dinner with Alec’s friends and family when he realizes who it is he wanted to send a Christmas gift to and was forgetting. Zakhar, the man who helped Valentin bring him Alec. He wants to send Zakhar a gift as a thank you. Making a mental note of it, he realizes he will have to figure out the rest of the man’s name as well. Well that should be a fun challenge if nothing else.

His fingers strum against the seat absently, up until Alec’s hand closes around his.

Blushing, he ducks his head and scoots over just the slightest, bringing them a little closer.

It was a very pleasant dinner. He had a great time speaking with Nadiya and Marie. He enjoyed the way his soulmate almost snuggled against him, staying close even through the arched eyebrow from Grandmama Vera. Now she was probably the most interesting person at the dinner. Her questions were pointed but subtle. He would really enjoy spending more time speaking with her. He’s not sure if he likes Pyotr Bogdan and Dayesi Malinini, but at this point he is pretty sure he likes Lidiya Raskova, if only because she seems to want the best for his soulmate’s health.

When they reach the house, they head inside.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Alec tells him, yawning and scowling almost immediately after.

“Okay,” he agrees, trying not to smile at his spy’s disgruntled expression.

He’s pretty sure he fails when that scowl turns on him, only for the effects to be broken by another yawn.

“A shower’s probably a good idea,” he agrees. “I’m actually thinking of a nap after I check and see if Aither’s figured out the challenge code yet.”

Alec just snickers at him.

While his spy grabs a change of clothes out of the top of the dresser where he emptied a drawer for the older man to use, he gets the laptop booted up. The way the older man pauses at the door to the bathroom makes him wonder what’s going through his spies mind, but the moment passes and Alec slips in.

Shrugging, he gets online. The first thing he does is check where his best friend is in her attempt to get through his current firewall settings. He’s been working the code for the last few days every time Alec works on his PT with Doctor Raskova. She’s not quite through but he is sure she will be by tomorrow. Grinning evilly at his screen, he pulls up the next layers of codes and makes sure they are set for her to run into just as soon as she springs the coding trap.

—How’s it going? — he queries, pulling up a search screen as well so he can work on finding that man’s name to send a Christmas gift too.

—Oh you know, Havoc and Mayhem should be my name. Sparks decided to take me out partying, I think he’s regretting that now.— she replies a little bit later, —I’m pretty sure I’m drunk right now and this code looks really weird. Did you design it with squiggles?—

—That’s you being drunk. Isn’t the legal age 21 there? — he replies with a chuckle, seriously, his friend can be really amusing.

—We’re hackers and you’re worried about the drinking age???— She replies

He snorts, finding her amusing, even if she has a small point. But then he never understood the idea behind getting drunk. —You’re insane.—

—Have you seen who I spend my time with? Of course I am! You’re not much better.— she retorts, and he’s fairly sure it’s playful.

—Yes, I have. — He answers, they had shared pictures just a few weeks after Alec had entered his life. Aither was tiny, particularly compared to her Russian born lover and fellow street fighter Afanas Anatonievich Balakhnov, better known as Sparks for his short temper.

—That’s right! Anyways, he wants to go to bed, have a fun night! Spend some of it snuggling with your spy. He’s a good looking man, you should enjoy that!— she tells him before logging off.

He just spends a few minutes staring at his screen stupidly, skin heating up in embarrassment.

Something he realized when he was a going through puberty is the fact he doesn’t seem to feel desire like other teenagers. He can still remember the blokes in his locker room talking about what girls or blokes they found hot, who they wanted to have sex with, what they hoped their soulmate looked like, all things he never considered. He had thought there was something wrong with him until his dad had sat him down to explain some people never felt desire, others only felt desire after they had a strong emotional connection, some felt it all the time, and some had triggers that would rouse their desires. That it was all natural and perfectly normal, those boys in his gym and acrobatics classes didn’t know everything. That there was nothing wrong with the fact he didn’t feel it.

It had been a huge relief, because he had thought he was broken or something else was wrong with him.

After that talk, he had started to watch the others, and realized not all of them were as into what they were talking about as he originally thought. They were bluffing to keep from feeling out of place.

Then he met Aither, she doesn’t have a soulmark, and is totally at ease with her body in a way he never has been. Which she’s a woman, why is she so at ease with herself? She was the one who suggested he hire a model or prostitute to draw after learning he liked to sketch. Told him it might help him be more at ease with himself if he could see how others weren’t always at ease with themselves. He’d done it while Valentin was gone for a week, earning peculiar glances from Svetlana, particularly after she realized he wasn’t in anyway sexually attracted to the woman.

Hearing the shower turn off, he shakes his head ruefully. He hasn’t wanted to have sex with Alec. He’s not sure why because he does find his soulmate appealing. He’s spent hours just studying his spy’s face and body. At times he felt like a creeper because Alec wasn’t awake, but he did that more during those early days when he didn’t know if his spy was going to live through the night, let alone long enough to tell him it was alright. He wanted to memorize how his soulmate looked in case the worst happened. After Alec started healing, he stopped doing it so much. Now he mostly draws his agent from memory with only the occasional glance.

There are a couple of people he can draw from memory. Mum with her expressive face, always showing her emotions, bright eyes that were happier when he was younger and sad after the death of his younger sister Melody. Pops with his gentle smile and caring nature, often sketched with mum or a patient, because he was a proud male nurse. Da with his intelligent eyes that saw too much of the world, the thousand and one different smiles each one with a different meaning, and his accepting nature. Melody with her child’s curiosity and mischievous nature, the way she looked healthy, before the illness wracked her body. He still doesn’t know what she died of, he’s been afraid to see if the records are digital or not. Now he’s added Alec, sleeping or awake, perfectly still or in motion,

Turning his attention to his task at hand, he goes searching for the information he needs. Occasionally he pecks at a layer of code to challenge his best friend, but mostly he’s looking for that man’s name. How is he going to send a Christmas gift if he can’t figure out where to send it?

“Gotcha!” he hums happily as the door to the bathroom opens and his spy steps out, blonde hair appearing to have a strawberry sheen to it now that it’s moist. The tee-shirt Alec’s selected to sleep in hugs his chest and shoulders, giving him a view to appreciate. The pajama bottoms are low slung and hip hugging, the tops just barely covered by the shirt until his soulmate stretches towards the ceiling, popping his back.

Just because he’s not interested in sex doesn’t stop him from appreciating the view, he thinks, particularly when it’s put on display.

“Whose day are you ruining today?” Alec queries with a playful smile.

“No one, though Aither might be giving her screen annoyed looks in the morning cause I updated the code a bit, I’m actually planning something nice.” He replies with a small smile of his own. “How’s your side?” He queries, he had noticed that Alec kept rubbing his shoulder and upper arm during the dinner with the others, but hadn’t wanted to draw unwanted attention to it.

“Sore, I’ve used it a bit more the last few days than I have in a while.” His soulmate answers with a shrug.

“Want me to give it a massage?” he asks curiously, even a bit hesitantly. Since the splint came off, Alec’s been much more independent, which is fine, good even, but sometimes he misses doing little things to make his soulmate feel better.

“Yes,” the older man answers, sitting on the edge of the bed, “I’d like that.”

Finishing up his ordering, he shuts everything down, and walks over to the bed. Kneeling on the mattress behind the taller man, he carefully runs his thumbs along the area, getting a feel for what sort of knots have formed before taking his time working them out. He enjoys the way Alec relaxes into his touch, body loosening up as he does so.

When his soulmate starts swaying towards him, he hugs the older man’s shoulder, softly suggesting, “Lay down with me?”

“Mmmhmmm,” his agent hums in agreement, eyes drooping.

“C’mere you,” he murmurs, tugging on Alec’s shoulders carefully to encourage the older man to lay down.

“Stay with me?” the older man mumbles sleepily.

“Yes,” he replies quietly, referring to more than just the night. After he gets Alec situated, he gets up just long enough to turn out the lights and make sure the electricity is going to the window, with the new current pattern and point of entry in place of course.

The following day is a sleepy one. Alec’s exhausted, not that he’s surprised considering how much his soulmate did the previous day. Since the staff has the week off, including Dmitri, he is the one to do the cooking and make sure they have drinks, right up until his assistant’s husband calls. Apparently their wife is in labor and they can’t find a midwife or doctor to take her to.

Of course Valentin tells them to come over, and he calls Doctor Raskova to come assist his father because he sure as hell isn’t. Instead, he has Dmitri take their family in the front living room while he gets things ready. It only takes a few minutes to print off some coloring pages, grab his crayons and turn the TV on cartoons. As soon as he is done with that, he has Dmitri and the others relocate to the back living room. He pops into his room only long enough to change clothes, before heading to the garage.That car was a wreck. He’s going to make it better.

So while Kharitina is going through labor, he works on the car, fixing it. Alec wanders out to the garage a little while later. For a few minutes, his soulmate watches as he rips into the car.  Some parts are fixed, others are replaced as needed, and the rest are just a matter of cleaning them. When he was working on Valentin’s car, he made it a point to get to know the scrap yards and various auto shops, so he after he makes a few calls, he has everything he needs.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” his soulmate queries.

“I like to tinker,” he replies absently, grabbing what he needs and going.”By the time I was fifteen I had helped to or rebuilt six different scrappers. Of course all of them were given away. We didn’t need them. I’ve tuned Valentin’s car up even though I don’t drive.”

Alec chuckles, “Is there anything you can’t do?”

He’s not sure if it’s a serious question or not, but he answers it like one, “Horrible at dealing with people on a personal level. I’m either hyper focused on what I am doing to the point I can’t easily recognize what’s going on around me, or my focus bounces everywhere. Sciences not related to tinkering are difficult because they don’t interest me.”

A few minutes pass in silence as he finishes his project. He wants to make sure it will work just right for the small family, although he might buy a different car, fix it up and give it to them.

Straightening up, he glances at Alec, “Fire it up please,” he requests with a tilt of his head.

His soulmate nods, getting in the car to do just that.

A moment later it purrs to life. His spy glances between him and the car with an amused glance.

“There, now it will run in the harsher weather and the heater will actually keep them warm,” he remarks, closing the hood and smirking absently.

They head back inside, spotting Valentin as he leaves the small patient room at the front of the house.

“Ivan, if you’d like to go tell the fathers they can see the babies, she’ll probably appreciate that,” his father states, voice soft. There is something to it, a sadness that doesn’t need words for him to understand.

“Of course,” he replies with a nod, not bothering to change as he does that. The little boy wonders why he’s covered in grease but he has no problems answering, which leads to a lot of other questions. Chuckling he answers them and keeps all of the child’s attention on himself until one of the fathers comes to fetch Mikhail.

Almost as soon as the pair has returned to the patient room, he heads to his room with the intention of getting a shower. He doesn’t mind the grease but he prefers being clean. He strips off his shirt in the bedroom, dropping it on the floor with the intention of taking it to the washer along with his trousers as soon as he’s done showering so he can wash them separately.

He hadn’t realized Alec had come back in the room until he hears the soft noise behind him, causing him to spin on the balls of his feet towards the noise.

Blushing, he quickly mutters an apology before retreating to the bathroom. Completely forgetting until the door is shut that he left his change of clothes on top the dresser. Well shit. Go get them now or wait until he’s finished his shower? After, he decides, still blushing.

Turning the water on, he gets it heated up, enjoying the way the steam fills the room before he slips into the shower.

He freezes when a few minutes later while he’s in the middle of scrubbing the grease off, the door opens, and he sighs in relief when it shuts a moment later. Finishing up, he turns the water off and grabs the towel before glancing about, surprised when he spots his clothes resting on the corner of the counter.

A small smile plays across his lips, because it’s sweet.

He doesn’t really have any reasons to be self-conscious with Alec, but that doesn’t stop the feeling. He’s pretty sure part of it comes from spending months making sure that his body was always covered. Brushing out his curls, he decides he definitely needs to trim his hair but he does doesn’t have the energy to do it right now. He’ll trim it in the morning before it’s time to leave.

Returning to his bedroom, he finds his soulmate sprawled across the bed with pajamas on looking over one of his books.

“You look tired,” his soulmate remarks, “Why don’t you come lay down for a bit?”

His eyes flicker between the laptop and his spy before he decides to go with Alec’s plan. He can work on the laptop later. Right now he has nothing pressing going on. Of course, the way his agent is sprawled takes up the majority of the bed so he needs to figure out where he’s laying.

He’s not really startled when the sardonyx blonde lightly grasps his wrist and pulls him down so he is half sprawled across the spy’s body. It’s not the first time his spy has pulled a stunt like that. Sturdy arms wrap around him, and he finds himself being held firmly.

“You need to relax,” Alec murmurs in his ear, “Being tense isn’t going to help you any.”

“I’m nervous,” he confesses softly, “And thank you for the clothing.”

Shrugging, his agent replies, “I noticed you left them when you bolted and figured you’d want them.”

Laying his head against Alec’s shoulder, he just nods a little, “Yeah.”

He’s startled when his spy starts speaking, softly telling him about past missions and some of the stunts pulled. Smiling, he drifts off to sleep comparing what Alec is saying versus what the reports have in them. There are a lot of details that were skipped. That just means there is more story for him to hear, although he is sure some of it is also exaggeration.

He wakes up a few hours later when his spy moves him to get out of bed and use the bathroom. Almost immediately he’s fully awake and stretching. Rolling off the bed, he checks the windows and their wiring before settling into his desk in order to work on the laptop for a bit. While it’s booting up, he considers whether he wishes to take the presents with him today or not. Probably should as they are supposed to spend the next few days over there, including Christmas morning.

When Alec emerges from the bathroom, his soulmate snickers, shaking his head with an amused smile. “You’re determined,” he remarks with a chuckle.

“I’m just finishing up the last bit of code for Aither to try and break.” His expression turns mischievous, “After Christmas I get to break hers.”

“You sound rather certain.” His spy comments with a questioning arched brow.

“I’m in the lead right now, she’d broke eleven of the challenge codes, I’ve broke nineteen.” He answers honestly. “Because I think in numbers more often than not, I process them faster. She identifies threats better, I dismantle them better. Together we’ve won eight competitions against other hackers. I had Reid invest the money for me. Well, technically he had an accountant do it, but Reid is great about making sure all accountants stay honest.” A smirk curves the corners of his lips. “Sadly for the accountant, I have his information too, so if he ever isn’t honest I can always give him a really bad day.”

Alec bursts out laughing.

“Yes, I know, amusing that a hacker wants an honest accountant, almost as amusing as a hacker concerned about drinking laws, but there you have it. I’m odd.” He replies, trying not to chuckle.

Turning his attention to the laptop, his first goal is to work on the coding. She's through the first layer, but hasn’t gotten through the second yet. Eyes narrowing, he makes a few tweaks to the code, running them through his mind a few times to see where there is any weakness before fixing those spots and doing it again.

He’s surprised by a knock on the door, right up until he remembers he’s supposed to be going to the triad house. How’d he forget? Oh yeah, got lost in the codes. Oh well, there’s no time to cut his hair now, but that doesn’t stop him from getting up to change into one of his other outfits.

Dress so you are comfortable with yourself, he da used to tell him. I wear my suits, your mum dresses to impress, and Rory wears loose clothes or scrubs. It’s all a matter of what makes you feel comfortable with yourself. Don’t let anyone else dictate what that is.

Smiling wistfully, he calls out, “Come in,” as he shuts everything down.

Opening the door, his father slips in the room with two cups. “I brought some tea and coffee, the plan’s to head over in an hour or so if that works?” Valentin tells him, glancing between him and Alec.

He’s aware his soulmate hasn’t said whether he is coming with or not. He hopes so but doesn’t actually expect it. After all, why would his spy want to?

“That’s fine,” he replies distractedly.

His father nods at him, glancing between them one last time before leaving the room.

“He seems more distracted than normal,” his agent remarks casually.

“He’s nervous about you,” he responds as he decides which outfit to wear and which ones to take with him.

When his soulmate doesn’t respond, he glances over to see a rather questioning glance.

“He doesn’t know if you plan on coming, and as far as he knows, you may or may not be a danger to the children in the house along with the rest of them.”  He explains, deciding on his comfortable layered black slacks, silver surfer tee-shirt, and Christmas jumper with his mum’s family tartan design.

Alec shrugs, reminding him of a cat saying, ‘and?’ as if it’s not really a problem.

Rising, his soulmate crosses the small space between him and the bed to ask, “Do you want me to come?”

Startled, because he really hadn’t expected Alec to want to, he nods slowly.

“Then Valentin can just be nervous.” His spy replies. The older man’s expression turns mischievous, “Besides, call it an even trade for forgetting your birthday.”

Chuckling, he ducks his head and smiles, skin warming in a blush.

“We’re going to be there today through Christmas,” he comments, grabbing his small bag out of the bottom of the closet. He’ll take his one of his plain black tee-shirts and that Deadpool one Aither sent him last Christmas, the only present he got. He’d forgotten about that, it’s been awhile since he wore any of the tee-shirts. She was the only one to remember though, and that had stung.

Shaking his head, he forces his thoughts away from his parents and the fact he is spending another year without them. Technically their Christmas has already passed, but he’s not going to worry about that right now. He can think of it later, when he’s not getting ready to meet his father’s triad.

“You look pensive,” Alec remarks, voice questioning.

“I had forgotten that Aither sent me a present last year,” he replies, “It reminded me she was the only one who did so.”

A pair of strong arms wrap around him, tugging him backwards against a firm chest, and Alec’s chin rests on his shoulder. “She seems like a good friend.”

He smiles, nodding, “Yeah, we might compete on most things but we’re also supportive of each other.”

“That’s good,” his soulmate hums. “What’d you send her?”

“Last year? The teddy she’d be eyeing in the store,” he answers with a playful smile, “In three different colors because I can. Apparently Sparks appreciated, a fact I didn’t need to know.”

Alec laughs softly, a warm sound he hasn’t heard all that often. He’s fairly sure that laughter hasn’t been a common thing in his soulmate’s life for a while now.

They stay like that for a little bit, with him just relaxing into his spy’s hold, still surprised that Alec stayed. There have been plenty of times he expected his agent to leave and not come back, yet that hasn’t happened so far. Eventually he steps out of the older man’s arms so he can finish packing, asking his spy what he wants to take. He hesitates about taking his laptop, but decides to do so because he doesn’t like not having it nearby, so it’s carefully wrapped with a blanket and shoved in its backpack. He used to have a case for it, but one of his arsehole cousins destroyed it while he was Reid’s ward. They tried to get to his laptop but he got there first and broke the idiot’s fingers on his right hand by slamming the lid of his laptop down. Not his fault his that the idiot didn’t move fast enough. It was the last time any of his cousins tried something, and he was sent to live with Reid until Valentin could be found following that.

When it’s time to go, Valentin fights back a flinch when he realizes that they are both coming.

He just arches a questioning eyebrow at the doctor, waiting to see what sort of response his father is going to have.

Taking a deep breath, his father just says, “We’re taking the car.”

The ride over is quiet. He’s in the back, seated behind Alec, while his soulmate is sitting beside his father.

When they get there, he clears his mind as best he can, and when that doesn’t make him feel steady, he switches to running computer codes. For the moment he leaves his bag in the car as he slides out, hands absently smoothing down his jumper, and smiling at the fact it’s the one with his mum’s print on it. She’d be proud of him, wherever she ended up.


	48. Valentin's Triad

Jon’s POV  
His eyes quickly travel over the pair that are standing just outside the door. Ekatrina Pyotrovna Korolov aged well, he thinks, taking in the still amber hair, face with smile lines and crow lines from laughter. She an elegant woman, with a full body and dressed to accent that fact, not hide it. Beside her is a big man, probably close to seven feet in height, mostly muscle from what he can tell. His first thought is this is a brown bear turned man.

He watches the way the pair waiting for them reacts when Alec steps into the space beside him, close enough their fingers brush together. She seems almost excited, strumming with energy. He seems to be a bit more subdued, maybe even hesitant according to the way dark brown eyes flicker between him and his soulmate.

Lips quirking upwards in the hints of a smile, he follows Valentin up to the door, Alec stays close, fingers occasionally brushing his as they walk.

“You didn’t say, Valya, that both would come.” The woman remarks warmly, teasingly chiding.

“I didn’t know until right before we were to leave,” his father responds.

Ekatrina steps forward, giving him a brief and awkward hug before stepping back, “Welcome home,” she states, unintentionally causing his anger to bristle.

“Good afternoon,” the man greets them, “Come inside, we can do introductions where it’s warm. The children wish to say hello as well, it’s not every day they get to meet an older brother.”

He just nods in agreement, wanting to leave already and wondering why he thought this was going to be a good idea. It’s just going to be a reminder of what’s gone.

Oo-O-oO

Alec’s POV  
He’s surprised Jon wants him to come to the triad home. He’d been expecting that the teenager would want to meet them on his own first. So to have Jon want him there is warming, like maybe everything will work out.

Packing was a fun experience, Jon’s choices in tee-shirts makes him smile, particularly when they are hidden behind a dark maroon jumper with a very familiar pattern. There’s a change of clothes for him in Jon’s bag, the first time he can remember sharing a go bag in a very long time. Most the time James was the one who needed a go bag, he’d only take one if he had to, or his go bag would have explosives in it instead. Dayesi mentioned something about not keeping the nice clothes wrapped around semtex once and he just shrugged.

Walking to the entry way, he finds Valentin’s fear almost amusing. “We’re taking the car,” the doctor states, voice artificially calm, the sort of calm that comes from years of working in high stress jobs.

When they walk out to the car, he debates about whether to sit with Jon in the back or up front with Valentin. He ends up selecting with the doctor because he wants to see any threats coming. He doesn’t know if Jon realizes he has a gun tucked in his boot or not, hasn’t asked. Considering the way his soulmate took Bogdan’s weapons that first meeting, he is pretty sure the teen knows.

The ride to the house is awkward, for Valentin anyways. The older man is just about sweating bullets. A fact that amuses him to no end, although he’s not sure of exact reason why, he can hazard a guess it’s the fact he is also Janus, and not known for being nice. That’s not really his problem, his father-in-law, what a term for the man, in years past it would have been considered automatic, will just have to deal.

At the house, Jon is the first one out of the car but he watches the way the younger man steels himself, face going blank except for green amber eyes

The Williams Tartan, he realizes, that’s what the print of Jon’s sweater is.

He watches as his soulmate calmly assess the two waiting for them, and the way his hacker tenses when the woman decides to give him a hug. He sees the flash of rage at the word home, and understands so very easily why that would offend Jon.

The man watches him with wary eyes, the sort who recognizes a predator when he sees one.  From his spot beside Jon, he smiles, a wolf acknowledging prey. Eyes widen the slightest, concern just about pouring off Valentin who can easily see both of them, and knows his reputation, is worried about what’s going to happen.

He could reassure the man they have nothing to fear from him, but he doesn’t feel like it. Besides, they only need to be afraid of him if they do something to his Vansha.

As they head into the house, he has to bite back a chuckle. These people think he’s the threat when Jon is a far bigger danger to them than him, after all, he’s the threat they know about, Jon’s the one they don’t.

Oo-O-oO

Valentin’s POV  
Having Janus sitting in the seat beside him is terrifying. Even more terrifying is the fact the head of one of the largest syndicates is going to be in his family home because _he’s family_. Despite knowing that Aleksei is his son’s soulmate, that factor seemed to slip his mind until they were walking out of the door.  By the old laws, the crime lord is his son-in-law.

How did he miss that fact so easily? He’s sure that’s why his wife invited the man to the family gathering for Christmas. He’d been hoping Aleksei would turn down the invitation, but that was probably too much to ask for. Not when they are rarely apart and when they are, it is only briefly because Jon worries and Janus gets testy about everything.

Pulling in the driveway, he can only hope that this will go smoother than he thinks it will.

Then it’s not Aleksei who makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, it’s Ivan. He forgot exactly how intimidating his son’s direct gaze can be and he practically sees his wife wilting beneath it.

She was excited to meet his son, another member of the family, but the way Jon watches her like a math problem that needs solved seems to set her nerves on edge. She flinches when Ivan pulls back, breaking the hug before she is really ready to, fury flashing in his son’s amber eyes, though he doesn’t know why. Having not heard what was said it’s hard to tell.

When they step inside the house, he has to decide how to introduce Aleksei, and decides to go with the name that he was given when he met the man years before.

“Katya, Zheka, my son Ivan Valentinovich Markov, and his triad,” he clears his throat, “dyad partner Aleksei Kirillovich Sokolov.”

There’s only the two of them, he had asked the other day if they were going to seek out their third, and the immediate way Aleksei froze and Ivan got quiet told him that was a firm _no_.

“Ivan, Aleksei Kirillovich, my triad Ekatrina Pyotrovna Korolov and Yevgeny Ilyich Korolov.” He concludes the introductions.

“Call me Katya or Rina,” she tells them with a big smile, “The children are all in the living room, we wanted to let you know you’re welcome here whenever you’d like to visit before they start badgering you with questions.” She explains earnestly, eyes imploring Ivan to believe her.

Glancing at Aleksei, Ivan’s lips quirk upwards in a ghost of a smile as he replies, “Thank you,” there is a pause, almost like the teenager is trying to find the right words, “I don’t mind if you call me Ivan.”

His wife practically beams at his son, giving him another hug before bustling off towards the kitchen with a called back, “I’ll get the drinks!”

Ivan’s amber eyes turn towards his husband, brow arching in silent question as the teenager studies the big man.

His relationship with Yevgany is platonic, has been since the first day after they attempt to kiss just to see if there was anything there. The answer was a solid no.

“You don’t actually like Ivan,” Yevgany remarks seriously, “What do you prefer to be called?”

His son seems startled by this, but smoothly answers, “Jon. It’s what I was for sixteen years and the name I answer to the easiest, though I am getting better at Ivan.”

“Jon it is,” his husband agrees, “however I may forget and use Ivan as well, after all, it’s the Russian equivalence.’

Snickering softly, the teen replies, “That’s why I am willing to answer to it.”

“You can call me what you find most comfortable. Yevgeny, Zheka, Genya, I answer to all three, and I answer to new variations as long as they are respectful. One of my newest coworkers calls me Geny.”

Turning to the crime lord, his husband queries, “Do you have a preference?”

Aleksei’s lips tip upwards, “Aleksei is fine.”

The two men size each other up, but his eyes are drawn to his son, standing close to the crime lord, almost as if drawing comfort. He wonders how this Christmas is really going to go and hopes it goes well. The introductions went smoother than expected.

Oo-O-oO

Ekatrina’s POV  
She’s so excited! After more than a year she finally gets to meet her other son, sure he’s not hers by birth, but he is Valya’s, so that makes him hers too. That’s how family works as far as she cares.

Before the Christmas vacation began for Valya’s staff, she made sure to quiz them on what foods and drinks her new son likes. She was surprised to discover that his soulmate is in residence as well, and his list of likes and dislikes. At first she considered asking why Valya hadn’t told her, and then she decided he must have been waiting for Ivan to announce acceptance of his soulmate. So instead she had extended an invitation to her new son’s soulmate as well. It’s Christmas time, family should be together, and that includes soulmates. Maybe she’ll get a chance to meet the soulmates family sooner than later.

Her supportive Genya even decided to stand with her as she waited just inside the door. He didn’t tell her to calm down, or that she was being silly, or any of the things her sister Hrunya told her when they discussed her plan.

When they spot the car pulling into the driveway, she considers grabbing her coat but decides against it, best to greet them and immediately invite them in.

Only the greeting doesn’t go as she expects or hopes. Somehow she offended her new son when she hugged him and told him welcome home. She didn’t try hugging the soulmate, he gave off a ‘don’t touch me’ air, which was a direct contradiction to the fact his hand was resting on her new son’s back. Only, she’s pretty sure it’s a show of silent support.

After they get inside and do the introductions, she’s thrilled to be allowed to use her new son’s first name, so excited that she forgets to inquire what to call the soulmate. Yes, Valya introduced him, but maybe he has a preferred name.

Why does that name sound so familiar, she wonders as she starts getting the drinks together to take out to the living room. She’s getting ready to head to the living room, planning on making sure they are settled in with drinks and small snacks when her soulmate comes in.

“Genya, what did I do wrong?” she asks as the door swings shut behind him.

Her husband crosses the room to hug her, something she’s very thankful for she asks, “What did you say to him?”

“Welcome home,” she responds, still confused.

“Considering what happened to his parents, how do you think he took that?” he queries.

Her eyes widen at the implication that this was home rather than somewhere else. Oh no. She’ll have to fix that as soon as possible, first drinks, then fixing. “Thank you love, I realized the problem.”

He smiles at her taking the tray and leading them to the living room where Jon has all three children firing off rapid questions, surprising her how well he keeps up, beside Jon on the sofa is Aleksei, long limbs touching the teenager’s wherever they could. Drinks are a success and after everyone has had a chance to visit, she shows Ivan and his soulmate to the room she set aside for him. She’s mildly surprised when she realizes he has a backpack with him.

Retreating to her craft room, she thinks about her new son, his reactions and the soulmate that comes with. She’s sure she’s heard the name Aleksei Solokov, the question is just where? It doesn’t matter, he’s Ivan’s soulmate. Until he gives her a current reason not to, she’s going to act like he’s a perfectly natural soulmate for her son.

I want this to go right, she thinks, I want this to be good.

Oo-O-oO

Yevgeny’s POV  
While he is looking forward to meeting his step-son, he is not as excited about the prospect as his Rina. He’s had a stepparent before, after his mother died, his parent’s remarried, to form a new triad. While he got along fine with Xiu Mei, the early days of their relationship was tense. They ended up being more like friends or aunt and nephew then mother and son. Despite his leeriness, he supports his soulmate and wife’s excitement, because it makes her happy, and he loves to see her happy.

The initial greeting doesn’t go as she hopes, but it went better than he was expecting, particularly when he saw the tall man get out of the front seat beside his husband and take a place firmly beside Valya’s son’s side.

This must be the soulmate Rina mentioned, he thinks, studying the man and deciding that the soulmate is a predator. The question is: does the teenager realize that?

He watches the way the boy’s eyes sweep over them, assessing and evaluating.

Oh yes, the teen knows exactly what his soulmate is, probably knows more than Valya does, he decides.

He’s the one who realizes that the teen doesn’t seem particularly fond of the name Ivan, so he asks what is preferred and is unsurprised the English variation, the one the teen grew up with, is actually preferred. There is no promise he’ll remember to use Jon, but he’ll try.

Aleksei Kirillovich Sokolov, familiar name, where has he heard it before? He wonders as he shows the two to the living room and makes the introductions to the children.

They are immediately asking their new half brother questions, lots and lots of questions, some far more personal than is probably appropriate. When he notices it’s taking his wife a bit longer than expected to get the drinks he goes to check on her, finding her lost in thought as she makes some tea. They end up having a brief discussion about what she said that made Jon upset. According to her reaction, she hadn’t realized and plans to fix it as soon as possible.

It‘s as he helps serve dinner that he realizes why the name Aleksei Kirillovich Sokolov is so familiar, Valya worked for him, but more than that: it is the name behind Janus, the head of the syndicate.

So far it appears the mob boss is only concerned for Jon’s well being, he’ll reserve judgment until he’s had a chance to get to know Aleksei.


	49. Christmas Day

 Jon’s POV  
He has a hard time sleeping without the gentle sound of electricity buzzing about the room. Alec even notices, because his spy tries getting him to sleep the second night after he’s only catnapped, even promising to stay awake and guard them if he’d sleep. If only it was that easy. Instead the time he is awake is used doing coding for one of his small side jobs.

Christmas morning he is the first one up, so after giving his soulmate a quick hug and takes a shower, he heads to the kitchen to turn the coffee on, get tea brewing, and make some hot chocolate. After a quick run through of the fridge, he even starts breakfast, frying up several eggs, making bacon, and cooking some oatmeal. That’s how he’s found thirty minutes later by his youngest half-sister.

“You cook?” she asks curiously, peering up at him.

“Sometimes,” he answers as he flips the bacon.

“Aw’some,” she mumbles, grabbing a piece off the done plate to munch on.

“Can you set the table if I get the dishes down?” he queries with a slight smile.

She nods energetically in agreement.

Chuckling, he gets them out and sets them on the table, watching as the little girl carefully scoots each down the table without actually picking it off the table. That’s one way to make sure none of them are dropped. When he is sure she’ll be fine on her own, he goes back to making breakfast. After a little more hunting through the available supplies, he decides to add pancakes to the mix, and starts on them as well. Elena takes the initiative and gets the silverware out of the drawer to set with each of the dishes sets before dropping a napkin on top each plate as well.

“Done!” she announces, coming to stand beside him with an excited expression, “When’s everyone else getting up?” she just about demands.

Smiling, he glances over and states, “Nice job,” before answering her question with, “I don’t know.” Tipping his head to the side, he comments, “I suspect that Aleksei will be up first.” He had hesitated briefly with Alec’s name, almost calling his soulmate his real name rather than the name he had been introduced to the family with last night.

“Is he your mark mate?” she asks curiously.

“Yes,” he answers with a chuckle, “He’s my mark mate. Do you know the name for those marks?”

“Solmark?” she answers questioningly.

“Soulmarks, that’s right,” he hums in agreement. “Now some say that all people have soulmarks, but my best friend doesn’t and never did.”

“How will your best friend know who is theirs then?” she asks, a horrified look flashing across her young face.

He starts stacking the pancakes on a plate as he answers, “She’ll take her time and build a lasting relationship based on friendship, rather than having a soulmark.”

“Won’t she get lonely though?” Elena asks curiously, the horror fading slowly.

“She’s got a really good friend right now that she spends most her time with, he’s called Sparks.” He answers, “She’s had other friends of that nature too, but he’s been around the longest.”

“What sort of name is Sparks?” the little girl demands as he puts the plates of food on the table and hunts through the cupboard to find some big bowels to put over them to keep them warm.

“His actual name is Afanas, but he doesn’t like going by that,” he responds with a snicker, “Aither, my best friend, started calling him Sparks because of his short temper.”

“Ooooooh,” she draws it out as if realizing it’s just a nickname. “Is her name really Aither?”

Still snickering, he nods, “It is, it means ‘soul’,” he replies.

“Everyone has a soul, why did her momma call her that?” Elena demands with a child’s logic.

“She was the best part of the triad relationship her mum belonged to.”

“That’s funny,” the little girl declares, turning when they hear footsteps and shrieking, “Daddy!”

He pushes the emotions aside, schooling his face into something almost blank as his soulmate and Yevgeny come walking in the room. He’s mildly surprised that they are together, but he’s not asking right now. It’s going to be a good day, without, or with as little, drama as possible.

“You made breakfast?” his stepfather asks curiously, eyes skimming across the table.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he answers with a shrug, smiling when his spy brushes their hands together reaching for a mug to pour coffee in.

Frowning, Yevgeny thinks about his response, looking as if he wishes to say something but not after glancing down at Elena who’s excitedly babbling about setting the table and the fact he has a friend whose name means soul.

“Did you sleep at all?” Alec queries in Scottish Gaelic soft enough not to be heard.

“An hour or two,” he answers in the same language, “I’ll be fine.”

His spy just snorts.

“I made coffee, tea, and hot chocolate,” he comments, looking at his stepfather who’s currently holding his half-sister. “Which would you prefer?”

“Coffee,” the older man responds, “I’m a bear without coffee in the morning.”

He doesn’t comment on the fact his first impression of the man was a bear turned human, instead he remarks, “I understand, I’m like that without tea.”

“You’re not a bear, Vansha, you’re some sort of cat, possibly a leopard or cheetah, but definitely not a bear,” Alec jokes, lips quirking in an amused smile.

Elena just giggles uncontrollably.

“Who’s cooking?” his step-sister asks, walking in, rubbing her eyes to get the sleepy out.

“Jon made breakfast,” his stepfather replies, setting Elena down on a chair.

“Jon?” his step-brother mumbles, trying to figure out a face to go with the name, Rina and Valentin had spent the evening calling him Ivan, and Yevgeny hadn’t used his name but once. “Oh. Ivan. Sweet.”

Alec snickers, sipping at his coffee and staying out of the way as the others situate themselves at the table, noticing that there is already food on it underneath the bowls he turned into covers.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Rina exclaims as she comes bustling in, stopping to give him a quick hug before continuing, “Thank you so much.”

Breakfast is a noisy affair with the three children talking across each other to the parents, with Valentin seeming to be the one they want to speak with the most. Probably because he’s the one they don’t really get to see. Yevgeny is the quietest on in the bunch, outside of Alec and him. While Rina keeps trying to drag him into the conversation. Occasionally he signs something to his soulmate, snickering quietly at the responses he receives.

After breakfast he watches as the two pre-teens put the leftovers away, not that there are a lot of them, while Rina washes the dishes, and Yevgeny dries and puts them away.

“Presents time?” Elena demands as soon as the table is cleared.

“Yes dear heart,” Rina agrees, “Presents time."

He had tucked his presents to the family beneath the tree the previous evening after everyone else had gone to bed, so they are already mixed with everything else.

The three are off, almost racing each other to get the best spot nearest the tree and to be gift passer. Rina follows close behind them, calling for them to calm down, while Valentin runs to his room to fetch the camera and Yevgeny grabs a trash bag.

“It’s just easier doing it as we go,” his stepfather states.

He nods in agreement, that’s what they used to do in his family too.

He’s surprised by the sudden arm that tugs him close, giving him a tight hug.

“This was a bad idea,” he mutters after his stepfather has gone.

“No, it wasn’t,” Alec disagrees, “It’s just a painful idea.”

He nods against his soulmate’s chest, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself so they can go and join the others. When they walk in the living room where the tree is set up, he’s mildly surprised to see they left spots for Alec and him in the half circle they have going on the floor in front of the tree. There is a small fire going in the fireplace.

It’s different from a Christmas with his parents or when they would have the extended family Christmas, but a nice sort of different.

He’s not surprised that Elena got the majority of the gifts. However, he is surprised by the small pile of gifts assembled for him. He really hadn’t been expecting anything from the lot of them. Afterwards, he thanks the triad in the hall, out of the hearing range of his siblings, no reason to ruin their belief in the season if it’s not gone already.

They spend a few more hours with the family before Rina starts dinner, and he offers to help, which apparently surprises her, but she accepts gratefully.

He doesn’t comment on the fact Alec pretty much always stays in the same room as him. Instead, when he notices his spy’s nerves fraying, he takes a few breaks to step outside, knowing his soulmate will go with him.

Dinner ends up going practically the same way as breakfast, only now his siblings want to talk about their gifts rather than telling Valentin about what has been happening lately. He doesn’t remark on the fact there is at least one food that is his preference and one that’s Alec’s, instead he just smiles and thanks Rina for thinking of them. Following dinner they leave the triad house to return to Markov’s home.

He laughs long and hard when they reach his room and he notices the fact the window was open, he laughs even harder when he notices the small body print just outside the window ledge. That ought to teach Alec’s friendly spy to enter his room via the window. Some reason, he thinks it’s just going to make her keep trying instead.

“We had company, and I am guessing it’s the one who’s come through the window before,” he comments, amusement lacing his voice.

Alec snickers, “Probably, she brought the presents I got you and Lilya was wrapping since my fine motor control hadn’t been the best at the time.”

He smiles warmly at his soulmate, “Presents huh?”

“Yes,” the older man agrees closing the space between them, leaving just barely enough room between them to fit a piece of paper. “I want this Christmas to be better than your last one.”

Warmth fills him, making his smile go soft as he says quietly, “I need to get yours out of the basement.”

Alec arches one amber brow at him questioningly. “Not the socks?”

Snickering, he replies, “More than just the socks.”

“All right then,” his spy hums, still standing so close he can feel the body heat pouring off the older man.

How his soulmate stays so warm he doesn’t know, he’s always cold, but it does make for some good cuddling. After all, he doesn’t over heat from too much heat, and instead reaches a comfortable level. For a moment he thinks Alec’s going to kiss him because of how close together they’re standing and the fact his soulmate keeps glancing at his lips.

A moment later a knock at the door ruins the moment as his spy steps back.

“Yeah?” he calls out, voice surprisingly rough. Did he want Alec to kiss him? He doesn’t know. Maybe. Probably.

His father opens the door and steps in. For a moment, Valentin’s eyes dart between them as he asks, “Am I interrupting? We can talk tomorrow if I-“

He cuts the doctor off, “No, we were just discussing presents.”

“Are you sure?” Valentin queries, eyes still darting between them.

He motions to the bed, and the small pile of presents sitting on top of it, “Of course I am.”

Alec doesn’t answer, doesn’t even acknowledge his father’s presence, and instead keeps watching him with hot eyes.

“I hope meeting the triad went better than expected?” his father hesitantly asks.

“Yeah,” he replies with a smile, “It was nice meeting them and getting to know them a little.”

The tenseness seems to seep out of the doctor’s shoulders. “That’s good. Really good. Would you mind if we had dinner this week sometime, just us?”

“I need to sort some things out Bogdan and Dayesi,” Alec remarks, almost as if trying to reassure him it’ll be fine.

“Sure,” he replies, not actually expecting it to happen. There have been plenty of times they were supposed to have meals together only for it never to happen.

“Great,” Valentin declares, “Well, I’m going to go for the night. Sleep well.”

He just nods, watching the older man leave without saying a word.

“You don’t believe him,” Alec comments after his father is long gone.

“It’s not the first time he’s made that request, so far of seventeen times he’s requested to do dinner together, I think it’s happened twice, maybe three times if you count the time the waiter came over and told him he had a call, and I got left at the restaurant on my own. Which, not a big deal being alone, it’s just annoying, it was supposed to be us and no work. My parents figured out how to make it work, why can’t he?”

“Go get the presents, I’ll get something to drink from the kitchen, we can meet back in here in fifteen minutes.” His soulmate suggests with a playful smile.

He nods, and the two of them head in their respective directions.

Less than ten minutes later they are in his room once more, a pile of stuff between them and a tray with tea, coffee, and snacks beside them. They can snack on them between opening gifts, he thinks, happy his soulmate is so thoughtful.

It appears that Alec went on a bit of a shopping spree, he thinks as he looks at the fact he only got the holster he customized for his soulmate. He has a feeling it will be appreciated however. Of course, he’s not mentioning the fact he considered bomb making materials and might get them as a birthday gift instead. Aither sent them both gifts, he’s half terrified to see what she decided to send his spy.

“You go first,” he decides, wanting to get whatever embarrassing item his best friend sent his spy out of the way and find out if Alec likes the holster he made some changes too. For one thing, he made sure to change the lines so it can tuck under a suit or jacket without immediately showing. He also added a few throwing knife holders, added small pockets for garrotes, with thin, strong wire in them, and a strap that if he did the measurements right will fit across the small of the back for another gun holster tucked on the inside and knife slot on the outside. He also reinforced the straps to make them harder to cut, added a bit of cushion to the top so they would carry lighter, and strengthened the hemming so they will not fray.

“Do you know what your best friend sent?” his soulmate queries, picking up the gift with bright red paper and a giant bow.

“She sent two and I have no idea what she sent.” He remarks, motioning to the one with the bright green paper and bow. “With her it could be anything from a serious and thoughtful gift to something sarcastic and playful.”

Nodding, his soulmate smirks, and reaches into the drawer to tug a knife out. The knife is then used to carefully cut the paper off, before tossing it in a small trash bag that the older man apparently brought with him. Inside is a clothing box, and for a brief moment he’s terrified that she sent his soulmate the male equivalence of the teddies he sent her the previous year.

Alec chuckles softly, suggesting, “Relax,” and making him blush hotly.

Opening the box, the older man finds a layer of tissue paper that he pulls out of the way to reveal a very soft dark green dress shirt, black slacks, matching boxer-briefs, socks, and undershirt. Along with a small note:

-Jon’s Spy,  
Merry Christmas. Measurements were based off the sketch he sent, should be accurate, with a little space for regaining muscle mass.  
Black Queen-

Ducking his head, his fingers sink into his hair as he tries not to blush hotter, damn it Aither! That’s not the reason he sent that picture. She wanted to see what Alec looked like but since he doesn’t have a camera he did a sketch instead. The one he shared is of Alec using the parallel bars as he learned to walk again, at a slight angle. How the hell would she have gotten the measurements? Never mind. Aither’s like him and can look at a image and know the negative space, which he forgot.

”Black Queen?” Alec questions, “Isn’t she a pale white girl if I remember the picture you showed me correctly?”

“As in the chest piece,” he answers, “She makes me look dark skinned.”

“Ah, I hadn’t thought of that,” his soulmate replies with a nod, “Do you play?”

“Sometimes, I prefer scrabble,” he responds finally looking up and surprised by the small smile on his spy’s lips.

Setting the box aside, the older man picks up the other gift from his best friend, using the knife to open it as well. Inside it is a collection of ace bandages, gauze, and other random medical supplies with a second note.

-Jon’s Spy,  
Hurt him and these won’t do you any good, even if they brought you to him. Merry Christmas.  
Black Queen-

“Direct isn’t she?” his soulmate murmurs, smile somehow growing despite the fact his best friend made a joke and threaten him in the same message.

“Very,” he replies, waiting to see what Alec has to say about the rest of the note, only his spy says nothing about it.

Setting the second gift from his best friend aside, his soulmate picks up the one from him. “Heavier than hers,” the spy comments.

He chuckles, watching and waiting to see what Alec thinks of his gift.

Carefully opening it with the knife, the sardonyx blonde ones the box he kept the harness in, pulling it out and running his fingers along the hems, checking the seam work and the little alterations he made to it.

“This is really high quality,” Alec remarks softly, “Order it from someone?”

He shakes his head, pauses, “Well, I ordered the base harness, the rest I did myself while you did physical therapy.”

“Thank you,” his soulmate states sincerely, meeting his eyes with warm turquoise ones.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, blushing again because he wasn’t expecting that reaction, actually, he wasn’t sure what sort of reaction he was expecting.

Almost immediately Alec slips the harness on, tugging on it and moving around. “How’d you know what size to do?”

“Same way she knew your clothing size based off what I sketched, I see negative space.” He answers with a shrug.

His spy nods as if that’s an easy explanation and maybe it is. “I’ll have to get some of the guns from Dayesi to use with this, along with get it a balanced set of blades for it.”

He just chuckles, happy his soulmate is already plotting the use of his gift.

Looking up, Alec comments, “It’s your turn now.”

He looks over his pile and decides to start with the gifts from Aither. He actually got three of them. Well then, time to start with the first one. Taking the knife from Alec, he slits along the tape edge and pulls the box out. Opening it up, he discovers a book and his skin heats up fast as he reads the title. The Kama Sutra. In the bottom of the box is a short note.

-Q10,  
For when you get around to the bits you’re not currently interested in.  
BQ-

His best friend is trying to kill him with embarrassment, he decides with a soft chuckle.

“Not currently interested?” Alec queries, tone slightly confused.

He shrugs, still blushing as he replies, “I’ve never gotten aroused by porn or people.”

His soulmate nods slowly, looking at the note thoughtfully.

“She figures one of these days my libido will kick on,” he explains, “It just hasn’t yet.”

Again his soulmate nods.

He’s not sure if his spy is nodding because he understands or because he’s processing the information, either way he’ll take it. They can discuss this later, after they actually have an idea what they are doing.

“Well what’s the other two?” his soulmate queries with a playful smile.

He smiles back, grabbing the smaller box and opening it with the knife. Inside is another box and there seems to be in the box considering it sounds like there are moving items. Biting his lower lip, he slices through the tape and groans, the noise changing into a soft chuckle. Inside the second box is a variety pack box of condoms, a jar of lube, and two tubes of flavored lube. At the bottom of the box is a note but the handwriting is unfamiliar.

-Jon  
Useful supplies for any relationship, in case no one’s mentioned it to you so far, enjoy and Merry Christmas,  
Sparks-

“Seriously?” he mutters, “Why’s Aither’s boy toy sending me a Christmas gift? Damn it, now I feel like an arse for not sending him something, even a gag gift.”

“Did you know he’d send something?” his agent queries.

“Nope, he didn’t send me anything last year and I sent him a set of brass knuckles since he likes street fighting.” He replies after thinking about it for a moment, “They had steel frame and brass plating.”

“Maybe this is to make up for not sending something last year?” Alec suggests, looking like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Go ahead and laugh, if my best friend wasn’t set on embarrassing me, I’d be laughing.” He remarks with a smile.

His agent only snickers, “At least she sent an interesting book?”

“True,” he agrees, it had been on his list to read, he just hadn’t expected his best friend to be the one to get it for him.

Grabbing the last box from her, he opens it up to find a clothing box a lot like Alec’s. When he opens it, he discovers a sapphire blue shirt of the same sort of material and black everything else just like his spy’s only in his size.

Setting the box aside, he picks up the first of the gifts from Alec, and takes his time opening it. Inside the first he finds a sketch pad with high quality paper, the sort his favorite sketches of his parents are on. The second one is a professional set of pencils. It includes HB, fifty different colored ones, water color, charcoal, and metallics.  There is also a collection of steel pencil sharpeners and different types of erasers.

The third gift is probably his favorite a customized computer case for his laptop, one designed to hold his laptop while in use and not, with a variety of pockets and folders to hold all the things he likes to keep with it. Even more surprising is the fact the case is exactly the right size for his laptop, a standard one would be too small. According to his finger tips the frame is steel, the casing a combination of leather and canvas, the straps heavy duty, designed to be carried in several different manners. In a word it’s perfect for him.

“Thank you,” he whispers, leaning over to hug the taller man tightly for a moment before he sits back and looks at the fact there are still four more presents to go.

Alec just smiles at him, a soft and warm expression in those vibrant blue-green eyes.

Opening the next package, he discovers a book about famous sketch artists through the ages, people who works pencils to make beautiful works of art. Slipped between the first page and front cover is a small note.

-Jon Valentinovich,  
I hope you have a pleasant and Merry Christmas. I know we started off on the wrong footing, but I would like to be friends .  
Lilya-

He glances at his soulmate in confusion, having not expected anything from his team, which is why he hadn’t gotten them something. That and he is still waiting for an apology for their assumptions when they first met.

Smiling, Alec remarks, “She’s the peacekeeper of our little group.”

He blinks, looking at the book again. He’ll accept the peace offering for Alec’s sake. Because he doesn’t want to put his soulmate at odds with the people considered friends. If they ever do it again however, well, he’ll come up with creative ways to make them have a very bad day that doesn’t hurt his spy.

The next package he opens is a massive sample box of teas. Most of them are flavors he’s had before, but there are also a variety of one’s he hasn’t had. In the lid of the box is a note along with a voucher for three more boxes of his choice tea.

-J. Markov  
Your window is evil. I love it. Thank you for saving Alec.  
Dayesi-

He laughs and can’t stop laughing for a good five minutes. She wrote that note before his window knocked her on her arse. It makes him wonder if she still loves it. Also reminds him he needs to change the design of the window. What to do, what to do. She’s maybe not a threat, but he doesn’t like the fact she can get through it without too much problem. He’ll think about it tomorrow. Tonight’s for celebrating Christmas and family and his budding relationship with his soulmate. Not for working on bedroom security.

Closing the box, he sets it aside with a fond smile. He does love tea, “I don’t have to worry about there being drugs in this, do I?” he asks Alec curiously.

“No, she’s not going to drug or poison you.” His soulmate answers with a chuckle.

He nods in relief then grabs the next package. It’s a collection of Russian stories in the original Russian, with a small note from the last one.

-Markov  
Have you had a chance to read these before?  
Bogdan-

Again he spends a few minutes laughing because that’s the funniest peace offering he’s seen in a long while.

“I might actually like your little group eventually,” he comments as the laughter fades.

“They do grow on you when you least expect it,” Alec agrees with a fond smile.

He nods in understanding. Some would say that about him or Aither too.

That leaves only one gift left. He’s fairly sure it’s from Alec unless the others decided to do a group present but he doubts that idea. Carefully opening it, he discovers a wooden case with the name of a very popular and well known weapons shop in town. He’s actually been in there twice, taking a glance over the pieces with the intention of buying some after he turned eighteen, but life sort of took a twist on him.

Opening the wooden case reveals two beautiful dark amber leather arm sheaths, one with a rowan etched into the front, the other a thunderstorm. Sticking out of the top of the sheaths is a pair of throwing knives. Almost reverently, he pulls each one out, delighting in the weight of them. Glancing around his room, he spots a place on his door frame that will be easy to repair, flips his grasp and tosses, embedding it in the wood nearly one third the blade.

Alec’s eyes darken and he looks at him with an unreadable expression.

Rising, he fetches the blade, checking how clean it split the grains, the edging for any wear that might have caused, and the weight of the blade after being used like that. This is an excellent blade, he thinks, better quality than most of da’s set. Although to be fair, his da’s set was assembled over several years, not all at once.

“Thank you,” he states softly, walking back over to the bed and settling back in his spot, a smile gracing his lips. Carefully he slips the sheaths on, getting a feel for them and finding delight in the fact they will be unable to be seen beneath almost all his shirts because of the way they are designed.

They end up spending a few minutes just looking over their gifts now that they have all been revealed. Alec’s fingers haven’t really left the weapon harness.

“So tell me about the picture you sent her?” his soulmate eventually queries.

Chuckling, he gets up and grabs the sketchbook it’s in to show his spy instead.


	50. House Projects

Jon’s POV  
He wakes up the following morning feeling confused. Twice yesterday he thought Alec was going to kiss him, and twice nothing happened. The first time because of his father, the second because he’s a clumsy teenager who swayed in place and fell off the bed. Does he want Alec to kiss him? _Yes._ Yes he does. Why? He doesn’t know. He just does.

He spends a few minutes staring blankly at his bookcase as he tries to figure out exactly what he is feeling. He’s still uninterested in sex. Occasionally he wakes up half hard, but it’s gone before he finishes coming to, so he doesn’t really count that. Do kisses have to lead to other things? He doesn’t think so. He’s fairly certain that if he said no, Alec would listen. Does he want to say no? Well, not a no perhaps, but later. Later is better. He still wants kisses now.

Now how to tell his soulmate that? What if Alec’s not kissing him because he’s only been eighteen for a few months? Is there some other reason his soulmate hasn’t kissed him? Has he unintentionally given the impression he wouldn’t be interested in kisses? He loves the cuddling, misses the baths where he could take care of his spy, enjoys the snuggling and massages. There are so many little things through the day that he loves doing.

His attention is drawn from his mind by the way his agent’s arm tightens around his waist.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” his soulmate murmurs against his ear, hot breath fanning across his skin.

He doesn’t immediately answer, how is he going go to explain he’s confused to Alec when he’s pretty sure his soulmate is already confused by him?

Rolling over so they are face to face, careful so not to dislodge the arm around him, almost shyly he replies, “I was thinking of kisses.”

One dark gold brow arches at him speculatively.

“I-” he begins only to stop when a sharp knock draws his attention, “We can finish this later.” He states, scooting out of his spy’s arms to go answer the door. He could have just told Svetlana to come in but he doesn’t really want her in his room right now. Opening the queries, “Yeah?” letting that one word have a wealth of meanings.

“Good morning Jon, I brought drinks for both of you, he has company in the front lounge, you have company in the kitchen.” She replies, holding up the tray so he can take the drinks.

“Thanks, we’ll be there shortly.” He tells her with a quick smile.

She nods in agreement, asking, “Do you have any dishes for me?”

“Here, let me grab them,” he responds with a light blush, “I meant to do them this morning but I slept longer than planned.”

She smiles at him warmly, “Don’t worry, that’s what we’re here for. I’ll tell them you’ll be ready in a bit,” the housekeep remarks with a nod. A moment later she’s turning away and heading towards the kitchen while he perches on his bed to drink his tea.

“You hear we apparently both have company?” he asks curiously.

“Can we pretend like we don’t?” Alec mumbles into the pillow, “Why am I sore?”

Smiling gently, he takes hold of the limb closest, an arm, and starts massaging the stiffness out with his thumbs. His soulmate makes pleased noises and scoots closer to him. Carefully he works his way up his spy’s arm, across the shoulders, and down his other arm. Whoever is waiting is just going to have to wait, taking care of his soulmate is more important. Once the arms and shoulders are done, he moves on to doing Alec’s back and working his way down, skipping right over his soulmate’s arse because he’s already confused and doesn’t need to add to it. Instead he works on his spy’s legs, able to feel every familiar muscle through the thin material of the pajama bottoms and smiling at the pleased noises.

“Ever think of becoming a masseuse?” his spy queries as he stretches, muscles and joints popping.

“No,” he replies chuckling, “I don’t really like touching people.”

Sitting up, the older man gives him a one-armed hug, purring almost possessively, “Good.”

Shaking his head and snorting softly, he murmurs, “We should get dressed.”

“Yes,” Alec replies without moving from the spot along his side and back.

The memory of this morning’s confusion has him pressing into the contact for a moment before sliding away to get up and stretch. Grabbing his tea, he takes a long drink before picking an outfit to wear and heading to the bathroom to change. Does he actually need to change in the bathroom now? No, but he doesn’t really like feeling vulnerable, particularly when he doesn’t understand _why_ Alec stayed and is still staying. Nor does he understand _why_ he wants to be kissed when he doesn’t want any of the rest of it. He’ll have to talk with Aither about it tonight or tomorrow while working on her challenge.

He doesn’t like feeling confused. It’s not a normal state for him. Besides, he should try and figure out who’s waiting for him in the kitchen. It could be any number of street kids he helped out, though why would they come to him? Which leaves him with question: who could it be?

Once dressed, he folds his pajamas before walking back in the bedroom and stops by his nightstand to grab his throwing knife sheaths. He wants to get in the habit of wearing them, he also feels the need to practice with them, but he doesn’t want to do that with the door frame too much, that was more of a test to see how well they worked.

When he looks up from fastening the cuffs, he finds Alec watching him with that same dark and unreadable expression. He’s going to end up sketching it and sending it to Aither at this point since she reads people better than him. Some reason he feels like he is missing something important every time that look flickers across his soulmate’s face.

“Your company, which I am guessing is the normal three is in the front living room.” He tells his spy with a hesitant smile, relief filtering through him when the older man smiles back.

Nodding, Alec agrees, “Probably is.”

“See you in a bit then,” he comments before heading towards the door, only to stop and turn slightly back towards his soulmate, “No physical therapy or rehab today, give your body a chance to recover from all the activities of the last few days. That’s why you were stiff this morning.”

One dark gold brow arches in questioning surprise.

He shrugs, “I’m not a doctor, but I bet yours will agree with my assessment.”

Again his spy nods.

Turning, he leaves the room and is just about to the kitchen when he realizes he left what’s left of his tea behind.

In the kitchen, he is mildly surprised to see the normally orderly room has eight people in it. Gregor is bustling around busy cooking, Svetlana is putting food in the hands of the other six, and there are six teenagers. He recognizes one and discovers that five of them are from the orphanage and one sent here by his street group.

“Not what I was expecting, Svetlana, please show them to the dining room so they can sit down and I will be there shortly.” He requests, turning on the balls of his feet to go grab his laptop. He has a feeling it’s about to be needed.

He never took his laptop out of its backpack the previous day, so he takes it out now to put in the new case, smiling again that he has such a thoughtful soulmate to get him such a wonderful Christmas gift. As soon as that’s done, he grabs his tea, downing what’s left of it and hoping Svetlana gets him some more because something says it’s going to be a long morning.

Heading to the dining room, he discovers the teens have arranged themselves according to age around the table, leaving the head space, and thankfully the spot closest to the wall plug because he can’t remember how charged his laptop currently is.

“Start from the beginning,” he suggests, almost beaming when the housekeeper brings in fresh pot of tea for him, rather than a cup.

Larisa nods, and the young woman who had run errands for him while Christmas shopping tells him about the last week at the orphanage, the way the headmistress has decided to start forcing the older teens out, but is still claiming they’re there in order to collect the money for them for herself.

Apparently she thought of him and decided to bring those who were having problems with her in order to see if he could help them. He feels a bit overwhelmed because he's not sure what she thinks he can do, but he quickly pushes that feeling aside to process this like a code to break. He's a hacker. If this was a security system he needed to deal with what would be the first step? Assessing the situation, he decides.

"How many teens in total?" He queries, booting the laptop up and making a spreadsheet to fill the information in.

"Right now just these four, but I suspect she's going to do it with all the teens over sixteen, that makes fifteen, I think." Larisa answers slowly, eyes narrow as she does the math.

Sixteen teenagers, what about education levels? "How many are good at reading, writing and math?"

She rubs her neck as she thinks about it, "Half maybe?"

So eight teenagers who have decent basic skills? What to do, what to do? Hopping online he looks again buildings up for sale, looking for open floor plans. He'd considered houses but decided against that because a house with enough rooms would cost a fortune. He finds three, two are in horrible shape but the last costs far more than he needs.

Rubbing his jaw, he thinks about it, trying to decide what to do.

"How well can your group listen when given instructions?" He queries, mind whirling as he does the calculations for what will be needed to make this a success.

She blinks, glancing at the others in her group and answering, "We can listen better than we let her know."

He almost smirks, knowing exactly what she means. "Alright then, I've got a plan, excuse me for a moment."

Rising, he heads to his room to use the phone, calling Reid to discuss his plan. The conversation gives him a few ideas to work with and his solicitor sighs, ending the conversation with, "John would be proud of you, I'll make sure the funds needed are available."

He spends several minutes staring at his bookshelf in shock, processing everything before shaking his head and going back to the dining room, the six are still sitting where he left them and it appears nobody touched his laptop, which is a good thing.

"We didn't move," Larissa tells him.

"Okay," he replies, "I've got a plan, it's not going to be easy though."

He's about to continue speaking when his small group goes deathly silent and stares at the door. Turning he spots Alec standing just inside it, eyes going carefully over them.

Standing, he walks over and stops just beside the taller man, "Apparently the bitch who is running their orphanage has decided to evict the almost adults, and for some reason they thought of me to help them."

His soulmate smiles at him, replying, "I can understand that. You're good at helping people."

He just blinks at that, because he's a hacker, how's he good at helping people?

"Have a plan?" Alec queries, eyes flickering between him and the teens.

"I'm about to outline it if you wanna take a seat," he offers, motioning to the table.

The teens quickly shift about so there is a free chair with his, but look very uneasy about the entire situation. "Aleksei, this is Larisa, Stephanie, Andrei, Miron, Vitaliy, and I'm sorry I'm spacing on your name."

"Anya," the last girl tells him, blushing as she looks away.

He could have done the proper introduction using the patronymic but that doesn't seem like the right option here. Partly because he doesn't know theirs and partly because he is trying to get them to relax since they all got massively tense with the appearance of his soulmate. He could tell them Alec's safe and he _knows_ it, but he doesn't want to explain _how_ he knows.

The next forty-five minutes are spent with him outlining his plan. Alec listens with eyes narrow in focus, occasionally smiling or frowning, but letting him get through the entire thing. Larisa stares at him with wide wonder. The others are staring at him in disbelieving shock.

“How will you do all that?” Anya whispers, still staring at him with wide eyes.

“Carefully and quickly, by any means I feel necessary,” he replies, not mentioning he’s really good at finding out dirt on people. “People tend to be a lot more cooperative when you know where the skeletons are buried in the closet.” That was one of his mum’s lessons, because she was more underhanded than his dad or pops.

“Interesting concept,” Alec murmurs.

“One of mum’s. Da would play it his version of honest, which didn’t always match conventional ideas of honest. But mum, when she had to deal with something, she would do so in any manner necessary. Pops was very uncomfortable with that.” He responds with a wistful smile. “Double crossing her was never good. She wasn’t a hacker, but she was still good at digging up dirt, and I think it’s the only reason she didn’t honestly complain about some of da’s less orthodox teaching ideas.”

“Do you think you can do that quickly?” Larisa queries curiously, leaning forward and waiting for his answer expectantly.

“I can get the building without any issue, the hard part will be finding a builder that’s honest,” he responds, rubbing his neck as he considers his options, “I could do some premium research, I guess.”

Alec snickers at that, drawing the attention of the other six in confusion according to their expressions. “You could always use my contractors,” his soulmate offers.

He stops to think about that for a moment, having not actually thought too closely about his spy’s crime syndicate or the buildings owned by it. It makes sense that there would be a group of contractors that’d work with or for his spy.

“If you don’t mind me borrowing them and you think they’d listen to an eighteen year old, that’d be perfect,” he agrees with a relieved smile, because he trusts his spy’s choices will work well.

Fire flashes through dark green eyes as Alec comments, “They will if they know what’s good for their health.”

“I’m not sure which one of you should be scarier,” Larisa remarks, admiration dancing across her face.

“Anya do you know where the little birdies like to roost?” he queries of the one street kid in the room.

Her blank stare is answer enough.

“Okay, plan two,” he mutters, grabbing his laptop and hunting for somewhere with a lot of rooms he can rent for two weeks. As soon as he has the perfect place in mind, he stands up and heads to his room to use phone. The phone call goes quickly, and he follows it up with a call to the taxi driver to see if Merkuru and a second driver would like to do an errand for him.

“Ioann and I can do it,” the older man answers.

“Great, about half hour at my house?” he queries.

“We’ll be there!” the driver answers merrily.

Hanging up, he makes another call to Reid, discussing what he’s decided on and how he plans on going about it, including the fact he wishes to offer a change of contract to Dmitri to run it once it’s situated.

Laughing, the solicitor tells him the contracts will be in his inbox by morning.

Returning to the dining room, he finds Alec looking over his notes while the teens are all staring at his soulmate in horrified silence.

“Mind a few suggestions?” his spy asks after turning the laptop back towards his seat.

“Go for it,” he replies with a nod.

“Change this and this around,” Alec points to the setup he has for the kitchen and ground floor bathrooms.  “Put these here, then you can use the kitchen to create heat for the entire building and save on fuel costs. Double the insulation layer on the outside walls will make it hold heat better too. What do you plan on doing with the windows?”

“Double layered stained glass on the ground floor, double layered storm glass for the upper floors.” He answers as his mind figures out the exact math of the thickness needed. “Side latching, vertical windows for the upper floors. Fire escapes on both the east and west sides of the upper floors.”

His spy nods again. “How many bathrooms on the upper floors?”

“Four full baths per floor, two half baths per floor,” he answers easily, “Second floor set up for educational purposes, third and fourth for sleeping. Bunk beds against outer walls, single beds in the next ring, and sleeping and bean bags in the center for those who don’t like mattresses for some reason.” He doesn’t mention the fact he had an issue with beds as a child because he always thought that the wood would be eaten by insects and he’d fall through until him and pops made a bed frame just for him.

“Gender divides?”

“No,  as most are teenagers it wouldn’t do any good, just a request that there’s no sex in plain sight of others.” He replies with a small smile, “Also birth control, condoms, and feminine products available downstairs.” He tips his head to the side, “Might see if Valentin is willing to check them over for health concerns.”

“Raskova would help,” Alec remarks, and he has a feeling that even if she didn’t want to his soulmate would make it a firmly worded request. “Who do you plan on having running it?”

“Dmitri, also offer his wife the job of making sure all the teens who stay are able to read, write and do math.” He thinks about it for a moment, “Possibly see about finding someone like Lana to help with matching apprenticeships.”

“Why not Lana?” his soulmate seems genuinely curious.

“She likes the roll she has currently,” he answers with the hints of a smile. Glancing at the clock, he comments, “Well our ride should be here,” as he shuts the laptop down and puts it in the beautiful case his spy got him.

“Mind if I come?” Alec queries softly, not paying attention to the others at all.

“Not at all,” he answers, “I’m only securing housing for this lot for the next few days while I get everything squared away.”

Something flashes across his agent’s green-blue eyes, “Perhaps I will stay here to make a few phone calls. Planning to start the purchasing and rebuilding tomorrow?”

He grins, seeing where his spy is going with that, “Purchasing tomorrow, rebuilding starting Monday.”

Nodding, his soulmate stands, smiling briefly at him before leaving the room.

“Wow,” Anya murmurs, “They’re either soulmates or lovers.”

He blinks because he didn’t expect any of them to figure that out.

“Ivan,” the housekeep comments as she comes bustling through the door, “There is two taxis waiting for you out front?”

“Thanks,” he tells her standing, “Ready?” he asks the rest of them.

They nod in agreement, Stephanie and Anya looking in longing at the hot drinks they are going to be leaving behind.

“We’ll stop and get some hot stuff,” he offers with a smile. Turning to Svetlana he queries, “Can you make up a list of everything that’s needed in an average household?”

“Of course,” she agrees before worriedly asking, “Are you planning on moving out?”

“Not just yet, but I have an idea and knowing what’s actually needed would be useful,” he answers, standing and lifting his computer bag.

She nods slowly, giving him one last questioning look before leaving the room.

The seven of them leave and somehow he ends up with Merkuru and the ladies in one car, while the boys are with Ioann in the other. They stop for drinks to go, along with sandwiches, he makes sure to buy enough for their drivers as well, much to Ioann’s surprise.

They are almost to the bed and breakfast he selected when Larisa comments, “Soulmates, you don’t strike me as the lover type.”

“Why do you say that?” he asks curiously.

“You’re both really aware of each other, I saw one soulmate pair when I was at a previous orphanage and you act a lot like them.” She replies with a shrug, “It’s a shame. I was going to ask what your marks are, see if you could be my soulmate.”

“I know who both of them are,” he comments, skin heating.

“So: sex? Any good?” Anya questions with an arched brow.

He’s happy he isn’t in the middle of drinking something because he would have choked. Did he have Aither show up and he just didn’t realize it? No, she’d know better than to ask that particular question with him, “I’m uninterested in sex,” he answers, his face feels like it’s on fire.

“You’re platonics?” Stephanie asks, genuinely shocked according to her expression.

“At this point, yeah,” he responds, although it brings all his questions this morning about kissing back to the front of his mind.

“Why?” that’s out of Anya, “He’s a good looking man, a bit dangerous, but some would say that only adds to the appeal.”

“Then why look so nervous when he came in the room?” he queries with a glance at each of them.

Stephanie’s the one who answers, “He’s not the type that is normally around our kind, not unless something bad’s about to happen.”

“Of course, you two got to bantering and that feeling went out the window,” Larisa remarks with a snicker. “He’s aware of us, but had judged us not a threat or competition or whatever it is blokes sometimes think, and we became ignorable.”

He doesn’t correct that assumption, knowing his soulmate, Alec was well aware of them and there every move, he just wasn’t showing it.

“Is he broken?” Anya suddenly asks, as if having a revelation.

“No,” he answers with a snort, “He’s not broken. I’ve never felt anything in that,” he tries to figure out how to word it. “It’s me. He doesn’t get it either, I don’t think.”

The three girls nod, Larissa looking at him thoughtfully. “Prefer women?”

He snorts before he can stop himself. _“No.”_

She nods again, “Then I don’t get it.”

“We’re here,” Merkuru comments as he pulls to a stop, “Wait for you, Mr. Markov?”

“Ivan, please, and yes.” He replies as he slides out of the car, “At least one of you.”

The driver nods, parking his car and getting out and going sit in his brothers while he runs inside.  
The pair that runs the bed and breakfast are platonic soulmate women whose male third died years before, and all their children are grown and gone. When they first walk in, Maratha, the older of the pair and originally from Britain eyes them worriedly.

“Ma’am,” he comments in perfectly crisp English, startling her, “I called about four rooms roughly half hour ago?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was for teenagers,” she murmurs.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies, “For two weeks. All fees paid up front. They’ll keep their own rooms clean.”

“Won’t their families be missing them?” she asks before commenting, “I don’t want any funny business in my home,” looking between the boys and girls.

“No ma’am, they are without families and at their age most orphanages and foster systems do not want them.” His voice gets soft, “They’d like to not end up in a facility since that can make it hard to get a job, if you know what I mean.”

She nods firmly, “I do indeed, young man! We don’t want that at all.” Her attention turns to each of them, eyeing them critically, “If they’re hoping to get successful jobs they’ll need to be cleaned up and a change of clothing.”

He smiles at her, nodding, “It’s on the agenda, along with lessons for making sure they know the basics at a decent level.”

She smiles at him, asking curiously, “You’re British, why are you helping?”

“It’s what my dad would have want, he died, along with my mum, two years ago. I live with my father now, he’s Russian.”

“Split triad?” she sounds very scandalized by that.

He nods sadly, “My mum’s parents didn’t like the fact her first soulmate was Russian. Pops, her second soulmate was Scottish like her, and da was British-Scottish.”

She nods in understanding, “My own parents despaired when it was discovered my soulmates were Russian and German. Particularly since it was the height of the World War II, and he was a German by birth.”

“I can imagine!” he replies, that would have been very stressful. It’d definitely be interesting to sit down and have her tell him the story some time.

“Marushka? Why haven’t you come back to the kitchen, oh hello dears,” Natalija asks as she emerges from a room behind the counter, speaking in Russian.

“Our borders for the next two weeks, they’re wishing to avoid the system so they can get decent jobs,” Maratha tells her soulmate with a serious nod, “We should help.”

“We should,” the other woman agrees, turning her attention back to them. “Are all seven of you staying?”

“No ma’am,” he replies switching back to Russian as well, “These six will be staying, Larisa,” he motions to the girl who’s worked with him before, “Is the one making sure to keep track of them. Starting Monday they will be spending part of the time with a tutor. To make sure they are up to speed. I’ll send my assistant with lunch and dinner for the times they are not with me since that’s-“

“Nonsense dear, they can eat with us as long as they don’t mind helping clean up afterwards.” Maratha exclaims.

Larisa glances between him and the ladies, “We’ll help within reason.”

“Great!” Natalija declares, “Come along, I’ll show you to the rooms, you can decide how you wish to divide them among yourselves.”

The six teens follow the short, plump woman, their expressions ranging from amusement to shock as they do so.

“How much will the bill be?” he queries politely, switching back to English for the moment. It’s nice to have a reason to use the language he grew up with.

She gives him a price for the rooms, one he knows is below what they have listed and he decides he’ll just hack their bank account to put the extra money in there. Thanking her, he pays before going to see the other six and bid them goodnight, telling them he will be in touch the next day with more information. All six promise to behave and seem to be genuinely shocked by where he picked to house them for the time being.

Leaving, he heads out to the cars to pay Ioann before having Merkuru take him back to the house. It ended up taking a little longer than planned but he’s pretty sure that’s perfectly alright. It will give him a little bit of time to think about the situation. Mostly the question of: does he want kisses and does it have to lead somewhere else? Question that has been racing through his head since last night in every free moment.

On the way back, Merkuru surprises him with some helpful advice. “Don’t let anyone tell you that you have to be sexually active with your soulmate or anyone else for that matter, do it when it feels right. If it feels even a little wrong, don’t do it, and if they don’t understand that, well, it’s their loss and you should maybe walk away.”

He smiles thankfully, “He hasn’t tried pushing me for anything, I don’t think he will, but I’ve been wondering about it anyways.”

“It’s normal to wonder, my soulmate and I, we both like women better, our third soulmate was a woman, she died in birth God rest her soul. But occasionally we find solace together, but we both have to want it, it’s something I think a lot of people forget,” the older man tells him.

He nods, smiling slightly.

“You hear a lot of things, don’t you?” he queries when they are nearing his father’s house.

“I do,” the cab driver agrees.

He doesn’t say anything else, instead he muses about information gathered and how useful it would be with hacking information. It’s something to consider for later. Right now his primary thing to do is figure out whether to kiss Alec or not.

“You like information,” Merkuru notes, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

“I find information very helpful,” he replies, not saying exactly what sort of information or how he gets it. His dad probably had a Russian network he just hasn’t come across yet. He knows his dad developed networks everywhere he went. It was a very handy thing for some of the jobs he did as a doctor working with people who were often invisible because of social status.

“You’d be willing to pay for that information?” the question startles him, and he glances over with a sharp nod.

“I would,” he replies slowly, “As long as it’s not intentionally false information.”

This time it is Merkuru who nods, “I knew someone else like that. Tall man, dark hair, suits. Not sure where he was from, but he always paid well, helped people where he could. You remind me of him. He was a John too.”

He bursts out laughing, because what’s the odds? Actually he could probably figure them out but he isn’t going to do that.

The driver gives him a curious and concerned look.

“John Smith,” he explains, “Was the third member of my mum’s triad by marriage. They weren’t soulmates, but he was the parent I got along with best.”

“Ah, that’s why you remind me of him, you’re a lot like him, he helped raise you then?” the older man muses.

“Yeah, taught me most of his tricks and talents, encouraged my differences.” He replies.

“I’ll give you the same deal I gave him, which was information for free as long as you pay for the ride to get it.” Merkuru offers.

“I accept,” he agrees nearly instantly, “I’d also appreciate it if you could introduce me to any of his other network you know.”

For the rest of the ride, they sit in companionable silence. He’s fairly sure that Merkuru is thinking about his request but he’s not going to push.

“I can try, although, his network was huge, with many people at many different places in society.” The driver tells him as they come to a stop.

“Thank you,” he replies sincerely.

Nodding, the driver tells him the total bill, waiting for him to pay before bidding him a good day.

Chuckling, he walks back in the house, smiling at the odds of him finding someone who belonged to his dad’s network in the small network he is slowly starting to build. Heading to the bedroom, he’s mildly surprised to see Alec napping, but decides to join his soulmate, going in the bathroom to change clothes before coming back in the bedroom to curl up with him under the blankets.

“You were gone for a while,” his spy murmurs in his ear, arm coming around his waist as the older man rolls towards him, tucking their bodies together from ankle to shoulder. They’re almost the same height, with him being just the smallest bit shorter, making them a perfect fit.

“I discovered something rather interesting, at least one member of my dad’s information and assistant network, and I think the ladies I decide to use for the boarding of the six also belonged to it, just because there was something familiar about the one.” He replies, snuggling into his soulmate’s warmth.

“What sort of house would you like to live in?” Alec queries lightly nuzzling behind his ear with his nose.

He thinks about it for a little bit, “Two story, three if you count the basement. Needs to have a work room, gym area, at least two bathrooms, two bedrooms, library, ummmm, that’s all I can think of right now.” He answers drowsily.

“Why a gym?” his spy asks curiously, hot breath fanning over his ear and tickling.

“Had one growing up, spent a lot of time with da in it, it’s where we practiced throwing knives,” he smiles fondly, “among other things. I practiced flips and handstands, and anything else I needed for class that I could practice in limited space. Da was really good at making creative jungle gyms for me to use. Pops always worried I was going to get broken in the process. I managed to only ever break a toe though.”

“Sounds more like a multipurpose room,” Alec murmurs, head lying down behind his on the pillow.

“Maybe? I dunno, pops called it a gym, mum referred to it as ‘that dangerous room’, and da called it the play room. So I went with pops name for it,” he explains, yawning.

“What about defense?” his spy queries, arm tightening around him.

“All windows would be stained glass one way mirrored wired with electricity so we could see out but they couldn’t see in. The safety windows would have hidden hinges and locks, so we could get out in an emergency but others wouldn’t be able to sneak in them. Doors would be wood with metal interior on double hinges, all of them would have magnetized locks, but each would be at a different type of magnet,” he pauses thoughtfully, “actually, I would custom make each lock with electricity so no two locks have the same magnetic force and I could change it as needed. It would have a backup generator in the basement and solar panels on the roof. So the electricity could never be easily taken out. Maybe a windmill on the roof too, if I can figure out the dimensions just right.”

Alec chuckles softly. “It’s something you’ve thought about I see.”

He carefully rolls in his soulmate’s arms so they are nose to nose, curiously, softly, almost hesitantly he asks, “Why’d you stay here?”

He’s not sure how to describe the smile that flickers across the older man’s face as he simply answers, “You’re here.”

Not giving himself time to think anymore on the topic that’s been confusing him all day long, he leans forward and brushes their lips together, almost ruining by not remembering to tilt until the last possible moment.

Pulling back, he worries his lower lip between his teeth as he waits for his spy’s reaction.

Alec’s tongue darts out to run over his lips, eyes going dark again in that manner he hasn’t quite figured out right before the older man just about surges forward to catch his lips in a kiss. Sturdy fingers sink into his hair, rubbing his scalp as his soulmate teasingly deepens the kiss with little cat licks against his lips until he gasps, lips parting. It feels odd when Alec’s tongue traces lightly over his teeth before just about curling around his. Even odder when his soulmate sucks on his tongue.

He’s not actually sure what he thinks of all this. Why didn’t he know there was all of this involved with kissing? Perhaps he should read some of those stories Aither sent him after all, for research purposes. A moment later his mind short circuits as Alec keeps kissing him but changing it to something he’d be hard pressed to describe if asked. All he knows for sure is it definitely caused an emotional response.

When they finally stop kissing, he’s short on breath and his entire body feels warm.

Alec’s eyes are still that dark shade of green where the blue nearly vanishes.

He wants to keep staring at those beautiful eyes, but instead finds himself drifting off to sleep, lulled in by the feelings of warmth and safety.


	51. Planning the Restructuring

Alec's POV  
He can't remember anyone ever falling asleep after kissing him. Not once in fourteen years. Sleep after sex, sure, but not kissing.

Jon shifts forward a bit, head tucking against his chest, and a content soft sigh escaping his hacker's lips.

He just smiles at that reaction, arms tightening slightly around the smaller man. Of course, he can't think of anyone else who runs on adrenaline as much either, and considering the amounts of spies he knows, that's saying something. So maybe it isn't so much that his hacker fell asleep after kissing him, as it's his Rowan fell asleep after finally relaxing, with the kissing having been the cause for the relaxing.

Closing his eyes, he decides to take a nap with the younger man even though he's already had a short nap.

The next time they wake up, it’s to soft knocks from the housekeeper coming to tell them dinner is nearly done and asking if they want to eat in here or in the dining room. He answers in here just because he doesn't feel like getting up yet or dealing with anyone else all that much.

"I like that choice," Jon mumbles, "don't want to wake up yet."

He chuckles, particularly since he knows his hacker is already awake. There are no partials with the teenager, he's either awake or asleep.

Stretching, his soulmate scoots away and practically rolls off the bed, somehow leaving the blankets behind as the teenager does so.

“Dinner, finish breaking Aither’s code, sleep for a few hours, deal with some plotting, see where to go from there,” Jon lists off.

He’s sure something is missing from that list but he’s not exactly sure what it is. As he watches his Vansha get the laptop out if its new case, hands gently stroking the cover, he wonders if there will be more kissing. He’d like there to be a lot more kissing. Preferably without falling asleep right after all the kisses. Although, he hesitates for a moment, he didn’t have any sort of expected reaction. Normally a good kissing session is followed by an even better round of sex. It has to be because they fell asleep, and he’s just not remembering it.

He uses the loo, and by the time he’s done, the housekeeper has brought their dinner. They eat snuggled up together on the bed, both lost in thought.

He enjoyed the kissing, has no idea why Jon decided to pick today to kiss him. He’s fairly sure it was his Vansha’s first kiss according to the wide eyed reaction it. Is that true? How could it be the teen’s first kiss? He’s adorable, between the short dark curls and intelligent eyes hiding behind dark glasses. Of course, the fact Jon’s not interested in sex could have kept him from considering kissing. Wait. If his Rowan’s not interested in sex, what if he decides not to do any more kissing?

He decides not to think about it, and instead asks Jon for some writing supplies after dinner so he can start planning out the restructuring of the syndicate. The original design belonged to the general. Now that the general is dead he’s going to redo it in a more effective manner. He’s also considered taking it from a crime syndicate into a mercenary company. While the two worlds are closely connected, it would allow him to hire out for jobs he finds interesting, and be a bit safer for his Vansha. Crime syndicates get attacked by other syndicates and by law enforcement, mercenary companies tend to be left alone as long as they are breaking no obvious laws.

So he outlines the plan, writing out idea after idea long into the night though he still ends up going to bed before Jon.

He’s surprised when he wakes up before the teenager, but only by a few minutes cause almost as soon as he moves the slightest bit, just shifting some weight to an elbow to study the teen’s profile, the younger man is awake and stretching. Reminding him of Rory first thing in the morning or whenever his moody tom decides to start moving.

“I’m going to fetch some tea and coffee,” Jon mumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He snickers however when the door opens to reveal the assistant standing there with a tray, steaming drinks and hot food included.

“Great, good, go eat, today’s going to be busy,” the teen tells the PA, taking the tray and shutting the door in Dmitri’s face before coming back to bed.

The tray is set between them, and he’s happy to note that there is still only one plate. The first thing his hacker reaches for is the tea, and by the time the cup is half gone, Jon’s wide awake, eyes narrow in focus as if doing math equations. Knowing his soulmate, that’s probably exactly what the younger man is doing.

“I’m going to buy both of the falling apart buildings,” his Vansha announces as he sets the cup down and grabs a fork. “Rebuilding the first one as an open floor plan shelter for street kids and orphans. Rebuilding the other as apartments for those who aren’t in a relationship, have lost their triad, or just need somewhere to stay.”

He nods in agreement. He’ll make sure to call the contractors today. Get that ball rolling sooner than later, and make sure they understand that working for Jon is the same as working for him.  He’s not known for being very forgiving.

It sounds like he’s going to be spending most of the day apart from his hacker, and he doesn’t like that in the least. At the same time, he understands this is something that Jon will need to do on his own, for self confidence if nothing else.

When breakfast is done, the teen gets on the laptop, prompting him to query, “Still on Aither’s code?”

“Huh? Oh, no,” his Vansha answers distractedly. “I’m making sure I know everything I possibly can about both building owners before I step into the room with them.” There is a bit of an edge to the younger man’s voice, something he assumes comes from something discovered. “I think I am going to end up buying all the buildings this one owns, and politely offering him an escape plan.”

Instinct tells him escape plan is probably a very politely worded threat. Those happened to be some of his favorite types of threats, as long as he’s the one handing them out of course.

“Why?” he asks curiously.

“Last winter, and the winter before, he was under investigation for the death of two different young triads living in one of his building. They both died of freezing to death after his furnaces went out and he refused to repair them until the beginning of the following month. He was fined in both cases but the murder charges were dropped,” Jon hisses angrily. “The second triad’s female member was eleven weeks pregnant.”

He nods slowly, considering all the ways he could make the man disappear.

However a glance at his soulmate stops his plotting, narrow eyes and lips pressed in a thin line. It’s the same sort of expression the hacker wore when ruining that MI5 agent’s life. He’s fairly certain whatever his Vansha is planning is not going to be very nice.

“I’ve seen that look before,” he remarks with a smirk.

“That time I only got the man fired and banned from ever finding another computer job, this one, well, there’s a couple of different treason plots floating around. I’m tying him to three of them,” the edge in Jon’s voice is cold as ice. “Of course, the evidence won’t be found until I legally have the deeds in my hand.”

He laughs long and hard, already understanding that the man won’t see a penny of the money.

“He’ll be the one I see first.” His Rowan decides, “Then the other, who seems to be a better sort. If only slightly. His poor handling of rentals hasn’t lead to any deaths.”

He nods, going back to the planning he had been doing the previous evening. Reviewing what he had wrote to make sure that they are solid plans.

“I like your steno,” Jon remarks, startling him because he doesn’t know when the teenager stood up. Tipping his head, the younger man’s eyes narrow, that same equation look flickering through his eyes. “Switch these around, it’ll work better.”

He watches in shock as the teenager collects all the dishes and leaves the room, he hasn’t gotten dressed yet, so it’s not time for the younger man to leave but he’s probably going to the office to use the printer. How did the teen understand his writing? The only person who ever really figured out what it means is James, he had to teach Dayesi and Bogdan.

Numbers and written language are easy, he remembers his soulmate mentioning one night while comforting him. I can do a lot more with them than I can verbal language. Da used to love combining different languages and codes for me to play with. Probably part of why I became a hacker.

He can also remember Jon’s steno, it’s swirls and lettering unlike any he can remember seeing elsewhere.

“Talented teen,” he murmurs thoughtfully, “Very talented.”

Shaking his head, he rereads the section his Vansha pointed at and applies the suggestion to see what he thinks of it. Jon’s right, it would be more effect. Chuckling he adjust it, then continues on his rereading of the paper work. He’s still editing and adding ideas when the younger man comes back in the room, a pile of papers in his hand that gets dropped on the desk on his Rowan’s way to the bathroom after pausing by the dresser long enough to get a change of clothes.

When Jon emerges from the bathroom, he’s wearing a rather nice pair of slacks and matching shirt, looking more like a young socialite than a hacker. His soulmate even managed to get the dark curls into something resembling orderly.

“Well, I’m going to be gone for three to four hours, please be careful if you decide to do rehabbing.” The teenager tells him, stopping beside him and absently brushing his hair away from his face.

It’s almost time for another hair cut, he thinks, replying playfully, “I’m always careful.”

The hacker just snorts in disbelief.

“Actually, I plan to work on this and make a few calls using your phone,” he tells the younger man with a smile. “Starting Monday I will have Bogdan start collecting what’s left of the syndicate together in order to make the transition.”

The younger man listens to him, nodding in agreement. “I’ll be back by dinner for sure.”

He nods, impulsively catching Jon by the wrist and tugging him closer to the bed just long enough to brush their lips together before softly ordering, “Stay safe.”

Jon’s eyes go wide, and he sways in place, only for the moment to be broken by that annoying assistant knocking on the door.

After the teen is gone, his lips curl upwards in a smile as he decides on a plan of action regarding kissing. He still needs to discuss the fact the teenager seems to be uninterested in sex with Raskova, and call those contractors.

Rising, he does just that, calling and requesting that his three come over so they can discuss what to do with the syndicate and then calling the contractors afterwards, giving them the information for where Jon is planning on doing the first building and when he wishes to start. They are quick to assure him that this Ivan will be obeyed with the same promptness as him.

Stretching, he glances at the clock and decides on a hot shower. He needs to loosen his muscles up before they get any sorer. Since he didn’t get a massage from his hacker, water will have to do the trick.

Raskova shows up with Dayesi almost half an hour before Bogdan, which is fine cause he asks Dayesi to go wait in the front living room  so he can have a private medical word with her girlfriend.

“What’s wrong?” the doctor asks, eyes scanning over him in worry as she sits at the desk in Jon’s room.

“I’m fine, bit sore, but fine. No, I wanted to talk to you about,” he stops, blush coloring his skin and he hates when he blushes. It’s such a rare thing, but when it does happen it’s annoying because he feels like his skin is being burned again. “Things between myself and Jon.” He eventually manages to get out.

She blinks at him, then stares, hot color rising up her face, “You understand the mechanics, I’m pretty sure that you do, I,” she shakes her head at a loss for words.

Laughter bubbles up because why is he having such a hard time with this topic? He is a spy for fucks sake, honeypot missions are part of the package. Only, Jon’s not a mission, he thinks. He doesn’t want Jon to be a mission. Jon is also nothing like James. That instant understanding is gone from his life, and he wonders how much of it actually was an illusion in the first place.

“It’s not that,” he mutters, “I’ve had no reactions, since waking up, at all, nothing. I’ve never woken up from an injury and had this problem before.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, _”Oh,”_ relief fills her tone, she nods encouragingly. “You might have gone through it following Arkhangelsk but not realize it because it wasn’t something on your mind. Back then, how long between recovery and sex?”

His mind blanks for a moment as he considers the question before he answers, “Six months, no, eight. Most people avoided me those early months.”

“During that time, did you take care of morning or evening issues?” Now that she knows where the conversation is at, she is a lot more relaxed and her blush fades away.

Thinking back he tries to remember if he did or not and can’t honestly answer one way or another. He remembers being angry about the fact he now had burn scars. He remembers calling for James, needing James, but James never came. He remembers the messages from MI6 confirming his cover. He remembers so very much but he can’t remember that.

“It’s only been five months, Alec, give your body time to heal. I am pretty sure you were in worse shape this time than that time.” She tells softly. “I’m also sure Jon will understand.”

“He does,” he replies, “well,” he thinks about how to word it, “I don’t understand, but he’s not interested in sex?”

“What do you mean?” she asks curiously, head tipping. “Like he hasn’t mentioned sex? Like he takes care of issues in the shower?”

“He doesn’t get aroused?” He shakes his head, “I don’t exactly understand. Apparently nothing gets him going like that.”

She nods in understanding, “Asexual, not really common, but perfectly natural.”

“Asexual?” he repeats, trying to remember if he’s heard that word before. Sounds like something from psychology, and he used to love studying when he could. Not that he’s had a lot of time in recent years.

“It’s a term used to define those who do not feel sexual attraction at all, or only feel it after they have an emotional connection to the person they are attracted to. It’s actually broken into a spectrum.” She explains, “Some suspect that asexuals are those who got their soulmarks too early, so their bodies shut down things until they are older and emotionally bonded to avoid unneeded pain or heartache.”

“Ah,” he hums. “Then later there will probably be attraction, after we’ve actually got to know each other better.”

“Yes,” she agrees.

“Discussion done, go get your girlfriend.” He tells her with a relieved smile.

Playfully she comments, “Sending me to England for an education worked out great.”

Chuckling, he shakes his head and shoos her away with a hand. “Actually, I’ll meet you in the dining room.”

“Okay,” she agrees, leaving the room.

Getting up, he stretches and collects all the papers he has wrote on in the last two days. He then heads to the dining room feeling a hell of a lot better after speaking with Raskova about the situation. At least he gets Jon. Himself, well, only time will tell, if a year from now there’s still nothing he’ll ask again. Have her check to discover what’s wrong with him, even if that is a bit awkward because he hates to admit there is _anything_ wrong in that department.

Of course, his Rowan knows a lot more about him, than he knows about his hacker. Although, he has been carefully compiling a list of things he’s learning about his soulmate. It’s by no means a complete list, and there are scores of information he missed simply because of pain, but it doesn’t stop him from compiling anyways. That he has written in the version of steno he used to use with James, different from the one he used for notes and sharing information with Dayesi or Bogdan, and apparently Jon.

As he steps into the room, he spots the housekeeper coming with a tray of drinks and holds the door for her.

She just smiles in thanks, merrily setting them on the table before promising some little bites and leaving again.

“Can we keep her? She provides food and drinks without being asked.” Bogdan queries hopefully only to be biffed by Dayesi.

“The only ones who might keep her are Alec and Jon, as she works for Jon’s father.” His fellow spy retorts, rolling her eyes. Turning her attention to him, she asks, “What do we need to discuss?”

“I want to restructure the syndicate into a mercenary company,” he replies, setting the papers down, “I already started some of the planning. You’re welcome to stay or go.”

“Now that’s just silly Boss, of course we’re staying.”  Bogdan declares expression earnest.

Raskova nods in agreement, “We’re your employees, we’re also your friends.”

“Unless that’s your way of asking us to leave?” Dayesi asks in Cuban Spanish.

“No,” he replies in the same, “I just know you sign up while it was a crime syndicate. It’s only fair I offer you a chance to leave before it stops being one.”

“You’re a fool if you think we’d leave you with a viper's nest and just a hacker for support.” The female spy snaps, switching back to Russian she continues, “I think we all agree it’s not good to let you plan things totally on your own, you get silly.”

“Well I don’t know if silly is the word I’d use,”  Bogden hedges, trying to avoid picking a side in this.

“We’re not doing it,” the doctor declares. “End of discussion, now tell us about your plan. You’ve got notes in that funny writing you seem to enjoy so much.”

He laughs softly, having missed the way the four of them work together and sets to outlining his plan, goals, and choices for who to keep and who to get rid of. They discuss his options and planning, deciding where in Europe, Asia, and Africa they might wish to work or avoid, where they want to set up shop, and how they want to make the transition. They decide to have a couple of different centers in the long run but to start with one here in Russia and add a second one in a few years in one of the desert countries to the south. The way things are looking, conflict will be coming from that direction soon enough.

They are still discussing it when Jon gets back just before dinner, stopping in long enough to say hello with a smirk before heading to the room to work on the laptop.

He just smirks at his hacker's retreating back, he’s well aware of what his soulmate is getting ready to do. Jon’s got a vicious streak to match his when furious about something and what that first man did with his tenants infuriated the teen.

“We’ll continue this on tomorrow morning,” he suggests glancing between the others and getting nods of agreement.

Rising, he collects up the papers, which Dayesi holds her hands out for, “I’ll make copies,” she suggests with a smile, “easier if we all have a set rather than all having to share a set.” Her expression turns mischievous, “Go spend the night cuddling. It’s good for your health.”

Liliya chuckles at this and Petya hides a grin behind finishing his coffee.

He just smirks.


	52. Perparation and Setting Up

Jon’s POV  
The purchasing of the buildings goes smoother than he expected. He doesn’t know the exact reason why, nor does he actually care. He will use it to his advantage instead. The second man takes a bit longer, and has a hard time understanding why he wants a rundown building since he doesn’t say what he wants them for.

Dmitri seems confused the entire time, but does a good job not showing it to the people he’s buying the property from. Since he held the meetings at the bank, it wasn’t hard to get the paperwork processed and dealt with. By next Friday everything will be in his name, but he already has agreements to start work that is signed and notarized. The bank manager is ever so thankful for his willingness to use their bank, for exactly how much money is exchanging hands, even though the manager has no clue he’s not actually going to give any money up.  At least not to the first arsehole, the second man seems decent, so he won’t pull the same stunt on him.

After the bank, they head over to the Bed and Breakfast where the teens are staying to check in on them. They’re not nervous about his assistant the way they were his soulmate. The ladies running it are happy to see him again, and have nothing but good things to say about the six teens.

“I’ve got one last stop then home I go and you’re good for the day,” he tells Dmitri absently.

“Are you sure sir?” his assistant asks, a bit hesitant to leave for some reason.

“Of course,” he replies with a nod. “I’m going to open a shelter, I would like you to run it, and I plan on offering your wife a job tutoring the kids who stay there.”

Dmitri just stares at him, eyes wide as his assistant processes what he said.

“I’ve already had Reid start drawing up contracts. It is totally up to you whether you accept it or not. It’d be open ended, so you can work there as long as you’d like or not.” He tells the toffee blonde.

His assistant just keeps staring at him.

When they reach the last stop, a look at the building he is planning on changing into a shelter, he takes his time going through it, using the key that the previous owner provided. It’s not hard for him to see the lines and shapes, the changes that he is planning, and shifting around plans in his head as he does so. Beside him, Dmitri looks around a bit lost, and worried about the condition of the building.

“Is this really safe?” The older man asks as they head up into the next floor.

“Stay down here if you’d like, I need to see what I am working with,” he responds absently heading towards the stairs, “Step lightly,” he advises, noting that some of them are bowed. “Actually, stay down here, I’ll be back shortly.”

Heading upstairs without waiting for his assistant to agree, he quickly scans each floor, looking over the evenness or unevenness of each and determining where the floors the sturdiest. Several times he hops to avoid parts of the floor that are weaker, but by time he is at the top of the building, he knows exactly what he will need to do. Now it’s just a matter of doing it.

When he gets back on the ground floor, he finds Dmitri pacing, staring at the steps with fear evident on his face.

“Every time I heard the building making a noise I thought the worst.” His assistant tells him, “Is this the place you plan to turn into a shelter?”

“Yes, after some massive remodeling,” he answers, “I mean massive remodeling, the outside will have to wait for spring, but they can start the inside immediately.”

“Why a shelter?” Dmitri asks as they head back out to the waiting car.

“For kids and teens like those we stopped to visit, for street folks who never wanted to be street folks but were escaping a bad situation or fall into a bad situation.” He explains as he continues to run the equations in his mind.

“Okay,” his assistant murmurs, still sounding a bit confused.

“I could have easily become one of them, if not for the fact my family has a great solicitor and my biological father was tracked down,” he remarks, easily remembering that his family hadn’t wanted him and would have been perfectly fine with him winding up in the foster system and claiming his trust. Of course, that’s not something he has actually discussed with his assistant so it is no surprise the older man doesn’t know.

The ride back to his house is quiet. Merkuru doesn’t speak, although the driver does sing along with the radio. Dmitri seems lost in thought, not an unusual occurrence. It  seems that their discussions cause at least one let’s-think-this-through moment every time. He’s fine with the silence and uses the time to consider any other changes he wants made.

When they get back to Valentin’s house, he slips out and pays the cab driver before Dmitri even has a chance to unfasten the seatbelt.

As promised it’s right before dinner when he gets home. Svetlana greets him warmly and directs him to the dining room, where he finds Alec and the other three discussing plans. He stops in just long enough to say hello, before heading to his room to start the process against the arsehole and to look into why he sold so easily. When he discovers that one of the factions of the Russian mob is after the idiot, he just grins.

He only vaguely recognizes his bedroom door opening and familiar footsteps crossing the floor as he continues his plan to make this a bad day for his target and locks all the accounts, taking the money to shove in unrelated false accounts that he makes look like they are tied to the mob. In truth that money will be used to repair the tenant housing.

“Svetlana says dinner’s done,” Alec remarks as he starts closing the laptop down.

Spinning in his chair, he smiles at his soulmate, replying, “Perfect timing.”

They have dinner with Valentin before retreating to his room in order to discuss their individual plans. Something neither has mentioned to his father yet. He listens carefully to what Alec has to say, the changes made, and people he’s confirmed already. His soulmate also mentions the concerns Bogdan has about resources, which reminds him he needs to unlock them and hand them back over.

Grabbing his laptop, it’s only a few clicks and a bit of typing before it’s all unlocked again. “There, I wasn’t thinking about it or I would have done that a few months back.” He comments with a shrug, hands flying over the keyboard as he replies to a message from Reid.

They end up spending Saturday afternoon relaxing, after Alec does physical therapy in the morning and ends pulling a muscle in the back of his leg while trying to do therapy and discuss things with his trio. Of course, that gives him a reason to give his soulmate a nice long massage after a relaxing shower. Still, he’d prefer not doing it because of injury but because his spy likes them. Which, he sort of thinks his agent does.

Sunday is spent discussing things and doing more planning, he mostly just listens but occasionally he makes a point that gets him dirty looks from Pyotr, speculative looks from Dayesi, and appreciative looks from Lidiya. Sunday is also the day he gives Dmitri off to spend with family.

Monday morning actually starts Sunday night for him because he can’t seem to make his brain shut down. Instead, after his soulmate has lain down, he spends a little bit of time talking with Aither and working on breaking a few systems he’s getting paid to find the weak points in. He also checks on the progress of the case against the arsehole, smirking when he sees the arrest warrant and frozen accounts.

When Dmitri knocks on the door to bring them their morning drinks, he’s startled because he hadn’t realized he spent the entire night hacking.

“You didn’t sleep,” his spy mutters from beneath the pillow.

“Apparently not,” he replies shutting down the laptop because he is going to have his tea and maybe eat a little breakfast, then head to the building to meet the contractors. Although, he tips his head, he isn’t sure if Alec is planning to come with or not.

“You need to sleep,” Alec mumbles as he emerges from bedding.

“Not tired,” he responds with a shrug. “Breakfast then meeting and planning, plus I apparently need to quiz Dmitri to see if he is accepting the job offer.” He pauses, thinking about it for a moment, “Well, maybe not, it’s only been three days, and I’m sure he’ll want to discuss it with his triad as it is longer term.”

“How often do you skip sleeping?” his soulmate queries as he gets up and grabs the door.

Narrowing his eyes, he thinks about it for a few moments, “I used to do it more.”

Alec just stares at him likes he’s insane.

“Listen, you like blowing things up, I like hacking for long periods without actually noticing how long it’s been.” He retorts playfully, “Normally no one notices when it’s been two or three days since I slept properly.”

Some reason that bothers his soulmate if Alec’s expression is anything to go by.

“Gregor says breakfast will be slightly late because he hadn’t realized there was no bacon.” Dmitri comments after the door’s opened, eyes flickering between them.

He’s fairly sure most of his conversation with his soulmate wasn’t heard, but he still studies the toffee blonde thoughtfully for a moment before shrugging.

Glancing at his spy he queries, “What time did you tell the contractor’s I’d meet them?”

“Ten a.m.,” his soulmate responds.

“Thank you,” he comments softly, then turns his attention to his assistant, “So at nine fifteen we need to be on our way. I prefer being first, not second, showing up.”

Dmitri nods, quickly turning and heading back towards the office while Alec shuts the bedroom door.

“You confuse him,” his spy says chuckling.

Snickering, he responds, “I confuse a lot of people.” Turning serious he queries, “Are you planning on coming with or another day with your trio and planning?”

Carrying his tea over carefully, his soulmate answers, “I’d like to make the introductions if you don’t mind.” Which clearly means: I am going to intimidate the living hell out of them.

He smiles, accepting the offer, “I’d like that.”

He likes the idea his soulmate wants to spend time with him. He likes the idea that his soulmate is supportive of his mildly insane project. He even likes the fact his soulmate wants to protect him. He’s just not used to any of it. Not since his parents left and the only person who really looked out for him was his solicitor, and seriously, the bloke with the law degree probably shouldn’t be the person looking out for him considering his career path so far.

“I’ll have Bogdan take us if you don’t mind?” Alec offers curiously.

He’s not really fond of the man, but nods in agreement anyways.

A few minutes later, he’s picking out what he’s going to wear when Dmitri brings them their breakfast, asking, “Do I need to call that cab driver?”

“No,” he replies, “Thank you.” He pauses for a moment then remarks, “You can stay here if you want.”

“I’d prefer that,” his soulmate mutters, although a lot of the distaste that Alec originally felt towards his assistant seems to be gone since the birth of the twins.

“Ah, oh, of course,” Dmitri agrees, eyes flickering between them.

“Good,” he remarks with a smile and then suggesting, “See if Svetlana or Gregor needs something.”

His assistant nods, staring at him blankly as the door is shut.

“Can I ask why you don’t like him?” He queries of his soulmate, tipping his head curiously and leaning against the door.

Alec shrugs, reminding him of a cat not wanting to cooperate.

He just smiles at his soulmate, watching the way the older man paces the room as if working off nervous energy. Yet, nervous doesn’t really seem to be a situation that his spy is familiar with.

“You should come kiss me,” he suggests softly, watching as his soulmate freezes in place for a moment before an almost predatory grin crosses the older man’s face. He barely has time to think before his soulmate has crossed the room, cupping his face between warm palms and is kissing him thoroughly.

His hands curl around the bigger man’s waist, pulling them so there is no space between them as his head tips slightly to the side and the kiss deepens.

“Mmmm, thank you,” he murmurs when they finally break apart, eyes half shut as he watches the way Alec’s eyes dilate. According to Aither, that expression is one of want or lust. He hasn’t actually had a chance to sketch it, but from the description he gave, that’s what she thinks it is. Since she’s the one who actually has a sexual nature between them, he’ll definitely believe her. “We should eat breakfast so you can call Bogdan.”

“I’ll answer why I don’t like your assistant,” the word is nearly sneered, “if you answer why you don’t like my second?”

“Deal,” he immediately responds, “He acts like a teenager more than I do. I mean, I get being wary of me at first, but he pouts and gets defensive over stupid things. Mind you, people reading is Aither’s talent, not mine, but I’m fairly sure he thinks I am not allowing you to be around them more. Which is stupid. You’re an adult. You can choose who to communicate with. I’ll admit I was a bit over protective when they first showed up, but according to your record, healing is not something you really let yourself do.”

Alec stares at him unblinking for what feels like several minutes but is really only a few seconds before laughing softly. “He doesn’t know how to take you at this point. I earned his loyalty with what happened with Raskova, you he doesn’t know.”

“That’s all fine and dandy, distrust I get, jealousy I don’t.” He retorts, softly nuzzling his soulmate’s jaw he murmurs, “Your turn.”

For a long time he wonders if his soulmate has changed his mind about answering. “I was jealous originally, before I knew he had a triad and was loyal to them,” Alec’s voice is low and rough, like he doesn’t want to admit it.

He blinks, startled, because he’s reminded that for some reason his soulmate wanted him, at least in some fashion, before discovering they are soulmates.

Smiling softly, he presses gentle kiss to just below his spy’s ear, “Thank you,” he murmurs again.

Several moments pass with them just standing there, bodies close together as they just take the other in. He knew he had soulmates by the time he was nine and the marks flared into life one long night, pain flaring in the storm clouds but almost nothing in the undefined tree. Now he knows what that pain was: Arkhangelsk and everything that happened there.

“We really should get our breakfast out of the way if we are going to make it on time,” he eventually comments even though he doesn’t actually feel like moving.

Alec presses one last kiss to his temple before letting go and stepping back. “Since you didn’t sleep, you can eat more of this.”

“I’m not that hungry,” he protests.

“Too bad, sleep or eat,” his soulmate retorts with a playful smile.

Chuckling, he settles on the bed near where his soulmate set the tray during his pacing.

Alec settles on the other side and the two of them set to eating breakfast, occasionally spearing a bite just to give it to the other as they eat. Afterwards, they both change clothes, he does so in the bathroom because he is still uneasy showing his skin off, while his soulmate does so in the bedroom. Apparently Bogdan was expecting the call, because the other man is there about the same time they finish getting ready.

“Ready?” his soulmate queries as they head out to the car.

Flashing the smile he uses whenever he’s not sure of something, he replies, “Of course!”

The snort of disbelief that he gets in response to that answer has him smiling in earnest as they slip into the car. It might be a long day, but he’s pretty sure he’s going to have fun.


	53. House Hunting

Jon’s POV  
He’s not exactly sure how it happens, but he finds himself house hunting with Alec over the next few weeks. They take all of the traits and desires they each want in a house, and try to find one that fits both. Neither of them want close neighbors, so they are looking for a house like Valentin’s with a small yard around it and maybe a wall or space to build one.

Is the house for Alec or is it for them? He’s not sure of the answer or how to ask.

So he helps house hunting, realizing that the spy is paying attention to the ones he prefers and the ones he doesn’t. Alec’s paying attention to what he likes about them, and what he wants different, even in the houses that he likes. The more surprising part comes however, when he falls in love with a house nearly three weeks after they started house hunting.

It’s neither the biggest or smallest, nor the fanciest or plainest. It’s middle of the road. It has a great basement with reinforced walls and an open floor plan. The ground floor is roughly twice the size of the first floor because of additions built on. The core house is a living room, kitchen, dining room, full bathroom, and bedroom with en suite. The additions add a library and study area with two attached offices, an extra dining room, and a solarium. The first floor is made up of four bedrooms, sharing a bathroom between each, and a master bedroom with a beautiful bathroom in dark wood paneling, cream tiles and white fixtures. Whoever designed this room must have enjoyed candlelight baths because there holders slotted next to the wall lights and over the tub.

He loves it nearly instantly, just because it reminds him of home.

Alec doesn’t like the house. He doesn’t know how he knows, he just knows. Yet Alec tells the estate agent they’ll take it.

The next two hours is a blur of paperwork and he realizes that his soulmate is getting tired far before the spy is willing to admit it or realizes it.

“My eyes are beginning to burn from looking at all this paperwork,” he murmurs, drawing the attention of both of them.

Alec’s eyes narrow but still decides, “Wrap this up.”

Immediately Larion Yurievich Myshelov agrees, “Of course.”

Losing interest for the moment, he considers the differences between how he acquired the apartments and warehousing compared to that of purchasing an actual house. If they weren’t currently at his father’s house and were in a different house they planned on moving out of, things would be far more difficult to manage. As it is, he’s happy with the fact he used land contracts to buy the property that he did. Apparently it is has been on sale for a few years, and the new owners are not always good at updating and maintaining the properties.

After spending the last few weeks dealing with all this, he wonders why Dmitri’s triad had so many financial issues prior to him offering the jobs he did. Part of him wants to look into that answer. Another part of him feels he should give his assistant some privacy. Maybe he’ll look into it later.

A short while later they are on their way back to the house when Alec’s lips brush against his ear lightly, voice low so not to be overheard, “You stare at papers and computer screens far longer than that regularly.”

He chuckles softly, “Do I? It must have been the lighting.”

“Bullshit,” his spy murmurs. “Thank you.”

Laying his hand overtop Alec’s, he lightly squeezes.

The rest of ride back is silent, even though the estate agent promises to get the paperwork done as quickly as possible.

When they get to the house, he bids the man good day without giving Larion Yurievich a chance to start talking again before heading inside. His spy is not far behind, low laughter following him to the door.

“Why’d you pick that house?” he asks curiously, head tipping to the side as he stops beside his bedroom door, Alec almost next to him.

“It’s the first one you liked all of and not just parts of.” His soulmate answers with a shrug.

He feels like he is missing part of the equation, he’s just not sure what part it is.

Alec’s hand comes up to brush his wayward curl away from his eyes, “I misunderstood our house conversation.”

The only one he can remember is the one they had on what type of house he’d want.

Kissing him slowly, Alec murmurs against his lips, “Move in with me?”

“Oh,” he feels slow like he’s missing the obvious. When his soulmate starts to pull away, eyes distant, he realizes he needs to give an actual answer. “Of course, I,” he shrugs, “I wasn’t sure why we were house hunting and why you wanted me along. We still haven’t really talked about this.”

“True,” the spy agrees. “Still. I like sleeping next to you, I don’t like living with Valentin, even if he’s gone most the time. So it made sense.”

He nods in agreement, opening his door behind his back and motioning them into the room. “It does make sense, and it’s what I was hoping. I just didn’t know how to ask. I’m not good at this sort of thing.”

Chuckling, Alec wraps an arm around his shoulders, giving him a partial hug and swaying in place. “You’re better at this than me. I just sort of stayed without ever asking if that’s what you want.”

His arm loops around the bigger man’s waist, offering a little extra support. “You stayed.” He says it as if it is everything, to him it is, but maybe his soulmate sees things differently. “No one ever picks to stay with me.”

“I’ll stay as long as you want me, and probably a bit longer,” Alec promises, swaying again.

“I think you overdid it,” he comments, noticing that now that the house is picked, his soulmate seems a lot more tired than the spy’s been the last few days.

“Running on adrenaline,” his agent mutters. “I’ve been doing the therapy in the morning, but still house hunting in the afternoon. I wanted to find something sooner rather than later.”

He maneuvers them to the bed, shaking his head and chuckling. Of course his soulmate overdid it. He should have paid closer attention, he thinks before snorting, because Alec’s a big boy who needs to pay better attention to his body. That’s not happening. If it was, he wouldn’t need to watch his soulmate so much and wouldn’t have needed to make sure Alec wouldn’t stress the breaks before they healed.

“You’re an idiot,” he mutters affectionately as his soulmate sits down.

A moment later he is laughing warmly when Alec tugs him between the spy’s legs, hands staying on his hips and head tilting towards him questioningly.

Softly he presses their lips together in the lightest of kisses.

“You own a flat here already,” he murmurs questioningly when they break apart for a moment.

“I do,” Alec agrees with a slight nod, “But it’s more of a safe house.” Scowling, his soulmate continues, “The mansion got raised by the crazy bitch ‘on accident’ though it probably wasn’t. I’m just happy Rory was with the ladies when it happened.” Shrugging, the agent remarks, “Almost all of my possessions of importance are in the country house. The only ones who know it’s mine are me, Dayesi, Lidiya, and Pyotr. The steward knows my name is Alec, but that’s all he knows.”

“I’d ask why have so many places to live but considering your job, that’s not surprising.” He says, kissing Alec again. “I’m going to get some hot tea, coffee, and snacks. Do you want something in particular?”

“Not chicken,” his spy replies, “or rabbit food.”

Laughing, he shakes his head and leaves the room. House hunting has been an interesting experience. The best part is that Alec actually wants him to be there, wants him to be happy with the house chosen. It’s mind boggling. They’ll have to discuss it further, like if they want to buy the furniture themselves or hire someone else to do it, but that’s a question for later. Right now he just needs to make sure his soulmate gets some rest.


	54. Reflections and Planning

Alec’s POV  
He smiles at the door Jon just left through, hands kneading the muscles in his leg, trying to work some of the pain out before the teenager gets back. He can’t believe he just bought a house with the purpose of making sure that it is one that Jon likes.

The house isn’t his first choice, there are too many things he sees wrong with it, but the way his soulmate’s eyes gleamed as they were walking through it had him purchasing the property with nary a thought against it. The problems can be fixed. He wants to keep that look on his Rowan’s face, if that means buying a house he’s not crazy about then he’ll do it.

Even more than that, he intentionally bought a house with his soulmate. It wasn’t just ‘hey I got this flat’ or ‘MI6 got us a new place’ or ‘I’m just going to stay here.’ It was intentional. He wanted to purchase a place with the younger man. Looking around this room, he’s easily reminded why. This room is nothing more than a safe house. There’s nothing really personal about it. Everything that is personal can be packed in under twenty minutes. That’s fine for a spy, but it seems wrong for his hacker.

He’s still lost in thought when the teenager returns to their room, a soft smile still curving the younger man’s lips.

“I was thinking we could replace all the ground floor windows with stained glass,” Jon shyly suggests.

“Make the windows like this one?” he queries, motioning to the one in the bedroom.

“Better actually, because I know how thick the glass needs to be and what sort of metals would work best.” Jon answers excitedly. “I’ve got a few blueprints for it, but I hadn’t expected a chance to use them until I returned to England.”

With that statement, the teen falls silent, looking down at the tray still in the younger man’s hands. “I didn’t think I’d have a reason to stay here. I’m happy I was wrong.”

Bashing his father-in-law or to-be father-in-law’s head in is not a good idea, he tells himself as he is reminded that prior to his being brought it half dead, Jon was pretty much alone.

“Can we discuss England later?” he requests, not ready to talk about that.

“Yeah,” Jon agrees with a nod, “I wasn’t actually thinking of discussing in depth right now, I just thought I’d mention why I have blueprints.”

Grinning, he takes the coffee and remarks, “You have blueprints because you’re a genius who gets bored and likes to tinker.”

For some reason, that statement makes Jon blink at him in shock, like it’s to be believed or no one has said that to the hacker.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, his soulmate’s parents, the ones that are probably dead, were most likely the last ones to praise Jon’s brilliance. He’ll fix that, and it won’t even be empty flattery because his hacker doesn’t need empty flattery when he earns the real thing.

“Any design patterns you have in mind?” he asks, deciding to see how far this conversation is going to go.

“Well,” Jon hums, “sort of.”

Finally setting the tray of snacks on the bed, the hacker grabs his blueprint book and his sketch book, crawling on the bed and setting up next to him before proceeding to show him which base patterns he was thinking about and then doing rough sketches of each window and a pattern based on the size and shape of the window. He’s amazed at the fact the teenager seems to know the measurements without having to measure them, but he really shouldn’t be. There have been plenty of times his soulmate has displayed on the spot math equations, mostly regarding catching and moving him.

From the windows they move to discussing the security system. Both of them wish to build a wall or put a fence up. He suggests a fence so it can be made electric. Jon suggests a wall with insulator rock as the base, but run conductor rock through the top and at certain points through the wall itself. It’s an interesting idea, definitely not something he’d think of on his own but he’s willing to try it just to see how well his soulmate’s plan works out. They can always tear it down and replace it as needed.

The next thing they discuss is the doors in and out of the house. Jon has an idea for how to make the locks magnetic so only keys that have the right magnetic force work on them, making it harder to copy a key and break in. The teen also has an idea for a code lock to put on the doors, making them electric and thus only able to be touched after safely putting in the code. There are a few different blueprints for the idea, though it doesn’t seem as fleshed out as some of his hacker’s other ideas.

As they talk, they finish their drinks and snacks, with the hacker setting the tray aside and spreading out the notebooks a bit more so he can point out some of the other ideas that the teenager has and would like to consider at some point.

Eventually, he has to ask that they continue this later, because exhaustion hits and all he wants to do is take a nap, preferably with Jon.

Almost instantly the teen puts everything away, apologizing for not noticing how much time had passed, which he waves away, having enjoyed their lively discussion.

A few minutes later he’s sprawled on the bed, limbs relieved to finally be stretching out, but still feeling very tense.

“Would you like a massage?” Jon offers quietly, hand touching the drawer where the oils are kept at but not yet reaching for them.

“I’d love one, my legs are a bit stiff.” He replies truthfully.

“Get a quick shower to get any sweat and grease down, then a massage,” his soulmate comments, opening the drawer to pull the oils out.

He nods, hissing in pain as he stands up. Apparently it’s not just his legs that are stiff.

As he gets to his feet, he can’t help but pull his soulmate close and slowly kiss Jon, trying to say without words how very lucky and thankful he is. He never would have imaged willingly moving in with someone and actually planning the purchase and repairs with that person. He’s never really cared where he lives as long as it’s comfortable. He wants Jon to know exactly how important the hacker is, even if he doesn’t have the exact words to say it.


	55. Moving Day

Valentin’s POV  
He feels like he has lost too much time because he was a fool. Now Ivan is moving out. But it’s more than that, Ivan is moving out and going to live in a house he helped design and remodel with his soulmate Aleksei. This definitely isn’t how he saw his relationship with his son going. If he’s honest though, it’s his fault they aren’t closer. Even after he learned of Vanyai’s existence, even after the teenager came to live with him, he kept the same patterns and habits, never thinking about how they might affect might affect the self contained and reliant teenager. Now he regrets all the time lost and all the time he’s going to miss because Ivan has moved out.

Despite that, he is happy for his son, Vanya has been smiling, laughing, otherwise just seeming happier since Aleksei entered the picture. Yes, the first weeks were stressful, but they seemed to figure everything out. Now they tend to present a united front. Both are very protective of each other.

It’s still sometimes terrifying to think that his son’s soulmate is the head of Janus Syndicate, that his son is a match for such a man on an intimate level. He wonders if he should tell Ivan about the blood work he ran just to be safe.

Although, he smiles ruefully, knowing his son, the teenager already knows about the blood work and the results of it.

Today’s not about that however, today’s about supporting his son as the younger man moves on to the next stage in his life.

Oo-O-oO

Ekatrina’s POV  
Ivan is moving into his own home today! She thinks, excitement strumming through her, and with his soulmate no less. She knows that her husbands are worried,  Aleksei, or more exact Janus, is not known as a kind or good person. She’s not worried however. Even if their interactions were brief for the few days of the Christmas season, she saw exactly how much Aleksei cares. Maybe it’s because she’s a woman, maybe she’s just observant in a different way, either way, it’s there.

As a housewarming gift, she’s making baked goods and treats for them with her daughters.

Lena doesn’t exactly understand why they are doing the baking for Ivan when her brother doesn’t eat with them normally. Eva is excited that they are going to spend a bit more time with Ivan and Aleksei. Her teenage daughter wants to get to know them, at least Ivan, because he’s family, a feeling she fully encourages.

Now they just need to finish with the batch of cookies they are on, finish the fruit bread, and pack it all into the car.

Oo-O-oO

Yevgeny’s POV  
He offers to help Jon and Aleksei move, despite his feelings of unease, because they are family. He’s surprised when he’s politely thanked but told that’s not necessary. Apparently Jon doesn’t have a lot of things to move and they have bought all new furniture for the new house rather than collecting things from Aleksei’s previous house. So instead he offers to help with the arranging since he knows delivery people do not always put things in the best place. For that his help is accepted. He’s supposed to go over after lunch to do so, because that’s when everything will be there.

Right now his beautiful wife and daughters are having a baking fest, making treats to take with. While Maks seems to feel a bit left out, because his son doesn’t like to bake but is on the small side so far and is sure that he can’t help with the moving things because of that.

“I bet there will be something you can do,” he tells Maks as he squeezes the young man’s shoulder lightly.

The pre-teen just nods, looking like it’s hard to believe.

He’ll figure something out for Maks to do, just because he doesn’t like seeing that expression on his son’s face. He’s sure that he can do that, or maybe Jon can find something if he explains the situation. Jon seems the type to try.

Oo-O-oO

Dmitri’s POV  
His boss is insane, he decides as he helps load the last box of books into the truck bed being used to relocate the teenager. For one thing, why are there so many books? For another, Aleksei Kirillovich is terrifying, why would his boss want to stay with him? Despite that, he’s determined to be supportive, if only because his boss has saved their family repeatedly.

Even now, his boss had made his family’s life so much better by offering the high paying job as a manager in the shelter. He’s saved his wife from feeling like she isn’t contributing even though her role as mother is very important by offering her a teaching position.

It seems to be a common theme with his boss, saving people. Just look at the orphans that the teen has helped, and the street folks, and anyone else who seems to genuinely need help. He’ll do whatever his boss needs to help, and if that means running a shelter for the years to come while the family saves as much money as possible for the children’s futures, he’ll do it.

Oo-O-oO

Pyotr’s POV  
He get’s that Jon is his Boss’ soulmate, but he’s still leery of the teenager. There is something dangerous about Jon that sets his nerves on edge and he can’t explain it. The fact the teen isn’t scared of his boss when any sane person would be, at least a little, makes him edgy. He doesn’t like the fact that they are rarely apart, and he worries that the teenager is just using his friend. Because that’s what Alec is, his friend and his boss.

He’ll keep an eye on the teenager, if only because his Boss won’t. He ignored his instincts once and it nearly cost Alec’s life, he refuses to do it again.

But for today, well, he’ll get the things out of storage and bring them to the new place. Besides, he wants to check out the security. Just to make sure it’s safe and no one will sneak in during the middle of the night. If he can find something that proves that the teenager isn’t as good as Jon thinks he is, well that’s alright. No matter what anyone says, soulmates aren’t always a good thing, just look at Alec’s other one. That man needs to be found and beaten for all the grief caused but he doesn’t actually know the other one’s full name, only that it’s James. Sadly, finding information quietly isn’t his strong suit.

Oo-O-oO

Nadiya’s POV  
She knows that today Alec and Jon are moving into their new place, she’s aware that her Petya doesn’t like Jon and distrusts the teenager, though she hasn’t been able to figure out why yet. From what she could see at Christmas, the pair cares a lot about each other. Even when the teen was speaking with Marie and her, the young man was very aware of Alec at all times. It’s so very sweet.

Maybe Petya’s problem isn’t that Jon’s untrustworthy or not a good match. Maybe her love’s problem is how the teenager met Alec to begin with. She knows that Alec was injured, the fact his movement was not as fluid as normal at Christmas told her that, even if she hadn’t listened to her second soulmate ranting for hours one night because of his fear for Alec’s life. She’s sure that given time, Petya will come along to liking Jon as much as Marie and her do.

Tapping on the table to draw her attention, Marie comments with a wiry smile, " _I made them a blanket as a gift."_

She nods, she had helped pick the colors out for the design, she’s sure they’ll love it. " _Time to wrap it? "_

" _Yes,"_ her first soulmate agrees, " _Along with the two books for our reading friends."_

Smiling, she gets up and walks around to the other side of the table, kissing Marie lightly on the lips, " _Good idea_."

Laughing huskily, the deaf woman smiles at her, remarking, " _No time for getting distracted, we have to make sure Petya doesn’t cause trouble."_

She nods in agreement.

Oo-O-oO

Svetlana’s POV  
Her friend and boss is sad because Ivan’s moving out. She could tell him it’s a normal part of growing up, but thinks it is probably best if she doesn’t. She’s well aware of the guilt that Valik feels over his behavior the last two years. She could tell him that feeling guilty solves nothing, that actions speak louder than words, but she’s pretty sure that wouldn’t do any good. Instead, she’ll just offer her friend support.

Ivan offered to pay her extra to train a young lady as a housekeeper. Of course she doesn’t need extra pay. She will probably be going back to having more time on her hands than needed, same as Grisha. Still, the girl who’s getting the training seems to be a bit skittish and might not be the best in a household like theirs.

She’s well aware that Aleksei is more than he seems, the fact that Valik knows him from some of the dirtier work done. She’s also aware that Ivan is not the typical teenager. While she hadn’t been listening in on the conversation between the other teenagers who showed up, Ivan and Aleksei, the parts she heard had given her pause. The very fact that Ivan was able to deal with Aleksei and keep him from choking Masha told her that.

Well, she’ll try her hardest to make sure Stephanie is ready for working with them, but she still has her doubts. Maybe she’ll see if there is anyone else in Ivan’s group who would like the training too, just in case it doesn’t work out, there is a backup option.

Oo-O-oO

Dayesi’s POV  
She snickers at the delivery men as she stands with Alec and Liliya watching them bring things in while Jon directs traffic. She finds their anxiety levels almost amusing, but more than that, she finds Alec’s annoyance levels at having so many people around hilarious. Of course, the last time they set up a house for her fellow spy, it was her and Lilya doing so because he just glared at everyone and retreated to the office, the only room he had set up first to avoid the moving people. How he’s become the head of such a powerful crime syndicate baffles her sometimes considering he hates dealing with people. Right up until she remembers that people listen to him because he pays well, his no-nonsense, and doesn’t take corruption very well from within his own ranks, even if he uses other people’s corruption to his advantage.

Altogether it takes the delivery men less than four hours to have everything in the house and be on their way. Almost immediately after they leave, Valentin shows up with food made by the doctor’s cook. Minutes later the rest of the doctor’s immediate family show up. They’ve brought baked goods to go with the other food. Not fifteen minutes later Petya and his triad show up, they’ve got gift for the pair. Jon’s smile is warm when he thanks them, but she notices his attention is on Alec, making sure that the spy hasn’t overdone it again.

It’s rather adorable to watch actually, because Alec is trying to make sure that Jon’s actually happy with how things are situated. Those two need to just have a good discussion, it’d make things easier, but she thinks this house is a step in the right direction. Plus she is interested to see exactly how the security system works since it’s not like any she’s ever dealt with.

Oo-O-oO

Maksim’s POV  
He’s not sure why his mom and sisters are so excited about Jon finding a new place. It’s not like they’re actually a part of his half-brother’s life. They didn’t even know about Jon until two years ago, and it was over a year after his half-brother came to live with Valentin that Jon wanted anything to do with them. Besides, why are they going over there? It’s not like they’ll be much help, they’ll probably just be in the way.

Only, it doesn’t turn out like that when they get there. His half-brother welcomes them warmly, even accepts the hug his mom gives the older teenager. His dad helps a man named Dmitri, and another named Pyotr make sure everything is in the right spot, while he hovers nearby feeling out of place. Maybe he should go join his mom and the others in the kitchen setting up the food? No, there’s too many people there.

“I’d appreciate some help with the books,” Jon remarks, quietly appearing beside him. “If you don’t mind.”

Startled, he looks at the taller teen, eyes wide as he nods, “I, uh, yeah, okay.”

Smiling, his half-brother murmurs, “Thanks, right in here.”

There’s a library in this house, he thinks as he looks around the room that’s a little bigger than his bedroom with floor to ceiling bookshelves. There is a small fireplace on the outer wall, two armchairs, a coffee table and a reading light table before it. There’s a square table and chairs as well. Overall, the room seems a bit cramped, but that’s because of all the boxes of books. There are so many books!

Smiling, he starts with one of the boxes labeled ‘Ivan’ on it. As he carefully pulls them out, he’s startled to realize a lot of them are on electronics and engineering. He never would have guessed he shared that interest with his half-brother. Maybe they can find something to talk about after all.

Oo-O-oO

Lidiya’s POV  
She translates for Marie when the rest of Jon’s family arrives as Jon is apparently the only one who has any sort of grasp on sign language. Despite that, it ends up being a lively and pleasant conversation between them as they get all of the food set out and make sure all the dishes are clean.

The pots, pans, dishes, and silverware are hers and Dayushka’s gift to the pair. She’s well aware that Alec rarely cooks and that Jon’s mind is everywhere else, but she’s pretty sure that they will end up hiring a cook, at least part time, and that means there needs to be supplies for them to cook with. She’ll leave getting food up to them.

Lunch and the time following goes surprisingly smooth considering how many people are here. By the time everyone is ready to go, the entire house is set up the way the pair, or more exactly Jon, likes. She’s well aware that Alec doesn’t give a damn as long as things aren’t in his way.

She’s surprised to discover that they are using three of the bedrooms. Apparently that’s Alec’s idea. They each got a bedroom to keep their clothing in and a private place to retreat if they need to get away from the other, and the downstairs bedroom will be shared by both of them for sleeping when they don’t want to sleep alone. She’s moderately certain that’s not going to last long. Jon doesn’t like the upstairs bedroom, even if he doesn’t say anything aloud about it.

Well, Alec will just have to discover it as it happens. Beside’s she’s quite sure that in less than a year all of their things will be in the downstairs room without them ever actually discussing it.


	56. Fireside Discussion

Alec’s POV  
He’s happy when everyone is out of his house, and smiles when the last thing that Dayesi does before leaving is fetch Rory’s carrier out of the car. His cat is pissed about having been locked up for the better part of the day and quickly stalks off to learn about his new territory.

“I have drinks and snacks in the living room for us,” Jon comments, stopping to stand beside him.

Chuckling, he turns towards the slender man, hands coming up to cup his soulmate’s face as he kisses Jon slowly and sweetly. “Thank you,” he murmurs against the hacker’s lips.

His Rowan smiles against his lips, kissing him again before answering, “You’re welcome.”

They step apart just enough to turn and head to the living room where all of the lights are out but there is a small fire going in the fireplace and several candles scattered around the room, filling it with a light fragrance. There isn’t a TV the way so many do. Neither of them had wanted one. Maybe they’ll get one later but for now, this is perfect as is.

They get comfortable on the sofa facing the fire, Jon’s lithe body is pressed against his from ankle to shoulder, his arm wrapped securely around Vansha’s shoulders, hand absently toying with the hair at the nape of the hacker’s neck.

“It’s been a good day,” his soulmate eventually comments after they spend some time in companionable silence, “but a very long day.”

He nods in agreement, “It has. I’m happy everyone’s gone now.” He really doesn’t like having that many people in his home.

“Yes,” Jon hums, “there were way more people around than I was expecting.”

Again he nods. He’s not the only one not fond of so many people in their house.

Suddenly chuckling, the hacker comments, “I hope your cat is smart enough not to touch the windows and doors that hum.”

He hadn’t actually thought about that when they set the protections up on the house. He hopes so too, he’s rather fond of Rory.

Again there is comfortable silence between them. Vansha shifts forward after a bit to grab the tea left sitting in a heating pad to keep it warm, before setting the mug back down. It’s nice to just sit here and relax. It reminds him he wanted to talk to Jon about their relationship. More exact: where they are going from here. It’s not a conversation he ever had with James, but Lilya assures him it’s a very important one to have.

“I know we’ve talked briefly about sex, and the fact it’s not on the table at this time,” he begins, feeling suddenly nervous even though he doesn’t know why. “I’d like to try this somewhat properly. That’s why I suggested each of us have a room. I’d also like to try dating or something like it.”

Jon twists around to look at him curiously, which just makes him more nervous. Is that the wrong thing? Damn it. He’s trying to avoid doing the wrong thing.

“We live together, we sleep together, unless you’d rather make the third bedroom the least used?” there’s confusion in his soulmate’s voice and worry.

“No!” he exclaims, quickly calming himself, and repeating softer, “No. I don’t think I would sleep all that well if we did that, I know you wouldn’t. I just thought it was a good idea to have individual space.”

He doesn’t mention the fact he’s only seen Jon’s soulmarks twice in the last three months since learning of them. He doesn’t mention the fact he worries there is something wrong with him and that’s why. He doesn’t mention the fact he is worried about things being too much too soon and the hacker will decide to cut losses and leave. He doesn’t mention the fact he knows Jon wants to go back to London eventually and he’s not wanted to go back to London in years. There are so many things he doesn’t mention that affect the choice. Jon might have chosen to let him stay for now, but what happens when his soulmate realizes exactly how broken and damaged he is?

Amber gray eyes study him closely as if trying to figure him out. It’s the same look he’s seen given to plenty of codes and understands that’s probably how his hacker thinks of things.

“Okay, I don’t understand, but okay.” There is something hesitant about Jon’s smile as one long fingered hand brushes against his jaw, “If you think it needs to be done, I’ll trust you on that.”

Turning his head to kiss his soulmate’s palm, he murmurs, “Thank you.”

He’s said that more to Vansha than he has anyone else in recent memory. Maybe Dayesi? It’s not something he says very often. He’s relieved that Jon agreed, now he just has to make sure that Jon doesn’t regret it. That’s one thing he never wants to happen, he never wants to cause his Rowan regret.


	57. Q10 Needs Advice

Jon’s POV  
Long after Alec has fallen asleep on their new bed he thinks about what his spy requested. Dating. Why would they date? What would be the purpose? He doesn’t understand and doesn’t want to tell his spy that because he doesn’t want to seem even more immature or whatever caused the idea. Is it his soulmate’s way of saying that they may not last?

Climbing out of the bed, he heads to the office he set up in order to boot up the laptop. He knows of at least one person who he can discuss this with.

—BQ I need some advice. —he messages his best friend, deciding not to try doing anything work related because he’s distracted.

—What’s wrong Q10?— she answers a moment later. —Please don’t tell me I need to visit to stab him already.—

He can’t stop the chuckle that escapes his lips, —No, that’s not it. We sort of talked about our relationship and I’m confused.—

There is brief pause before she replies, —Why are you confused?  Those sort of talks are healthy.—

—He wants to date. We have separate rooms, even though we are using a third room for when we sleep together. — he answers, —I feel like it’s a warning that things won’t last?—

Even before he has finished sending the last part she is in the process of replying to him.

—Dating is not a bad thing. Let him court you properly. As for separate rooms, could that be because you are 18 and have never dated so he wants to set boundaries to keep you from feeling pressured. Not that you wouldn’t correct him if he was pressuring you, but he might not realize that. — she tells him in a series of quick messages.

—Maybe.—He answers, hopeful that she’s right. She is the one who dates, not him.

—Besides, if you’re dating. That gives you even more reason to spoil him. From everything we’ve discussed and looked through, he needs major spoiling. It also gives him a reason to try and be openly affectionate even though most society seems to think that’s a bad thing. Which it isn’t. I would have loved your parents from everything you said.— she pauses for a moment then suggests, —Treat A the same way your parents would have treated each other. You’ve got nothing to worry about.—

He’s in the process of typing his response up when the door to the office opens to Alec, head tipped to the side studying him curiously. “I thought you were going to try and get some rest?” his soulmate asks softly, voice sleep rough.

He blushes, almost mumbling, “Sorry, I couldn’t sleep so I decided to talk with Aither. We didn’t have anywhere in the bedroom to put my laptop, so I came in here.”

“Sit on the bed with it, we’ll get a small desk in the morning.” Alec suggests, something in the older man’s voice catching his attention because he can’t easily identify it.

Nodding, he replies, “I’ll be right down. I just got to grab the case and cord.”

“Alright,” his spy answers, “I’ll leave the light on for you.”

He smiles fondly at the older man, watching as Alec leaves.

Deleting his original message he comments, —Apparently I need to relocate to the shared sleeping bedroom, Alec isn’t sleeping and he should be. He needs more of it than me.—

—LOL—

A moment later his computer chimes again, —Everyone needs more sleep than us. Sparks says it’s unnatural how little we sleep.—

He smiles at his screen, closing the computer for the moment to pack in the laptop in the carrier along with his cord before turning the light off and leaving the room. In the bedroom, his spy has made sure that he can easily get to the plug and has plenty of space. Turning the over head off after he’s all hooked up, he gets comfortable, scooting so Alec’s head is pressed lightly against his hip, one long arm getting tossed over his legs.

His hand absently runs through sardonyx blonde hair as the laptop boots back up.

“Don’t forget to sleep at some point,” his soulmate mutters.

“I won’t,” he replies, knowing not to promise it because sleep and him are rarely on friendly terms.

—Back.— he sends after lowering the screen lighting so not to bother Alec.

—Good. — She replies, —I can give you dating advice if you want? Sparks tends to come up with most of our dates, he says mine tend to be too bloody but yours might actually like that. Go to weapon shows or destroy enemies together. Go out to dinner or breakfast or some meal, find an amusement park, hiking, snowboarding, take him on your walks, sightseeing.—

There is a brief pause, —Scratch the amusement park. You’d want to tinker, he’d wanna kill too many people.—

He has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He’s never been to an amusement park. His mum forbade them because of that exact reason: too much stuff to tinker with.

—I can come up with more ideas if you’d like? — she remarks when he doesn’t say anything immediately.

—No, that helps, if I need some I’ll email Sparks.—he answers, feeling amused by the offer. Of course his best friend sees hunting enemies as a good date night. It’s actually a fairly good idea for Alec too. Except he doesn’t really like blood, so maybe he should figure out how to make some decent earpieces because the ones he’s seen in stores aren’t that good. —If I make some earwigs would you be willing to help me test them?—

—Hell yes. We could have soooooo much fun! — she responds immediately. —They’d be useful too. I don’t tinker, so would you mind making me some too?—

—I could do that. — He agrees, —First we need to design a set that are safe and useful. —

—Let’s do it! Oh that’d be great. I can think of so many ways they’d be handy.— She tells him a moment later.

Glancing at Alec’s face, he smiles faintly at how peaceful his soulmate looks, and young when the scars are out of sight. —I think I am going to get off and cuddle for a bit.—

—Good idea! Have a great night. You need any more ideas, we’re (Sparks and I) full of them.—

He shuts everything down carefully slipping the laptop in the bag in the dark and zipping it shut before he scoots down the bed, putting them at the same level.

“Time to rest?” Alec mumbles sleepily.

“Yeah,” he answers, pressing a quick kiss to the spy’s forehead, “Time to rest.” He’ll worry later. If Aither’s right, and she probably is since she’s better with people than him, dating isn’t something to be concerned about. So he won’t or at least he’ll try not to be.


	58. Family

Jon’s POV  
His computer chimes at him at noon, the calendar icon popping up to tell him he has an appointment. He doesn’t remember having something, so he checks it and groans, how had he forgotten he agreed that Alec and him would come to dinner tonight? Well shit. 

Standing, he leaves the laptop running as he heads to his soulmate’s office. 

“Yes?” the spy queries when he steps in the door, setting the pen down and looking at him.

“Did you remember we’re supposed to have dinner with Valentin and the triad tonight?” he asks curiously, surprised he’d forgotten.

Alec blinks at him for a moment before groaning, “I’d forgotten.”

“So’d I until my laptop calendar reminded me.” He admits with a shrug. “Get ready about five to head over there?”

“Yes,” his soulmate replies, “I think Yevgeny is the only calm one in that bunch.”

He nods in agreement, “I’m going to go wrap up the code I was working on and not start the next cause I wouldn’t have time to finish it.”

Laughing, Alec agrees, “Good idea since you forget time when you get coding.”

He just shrugs, it’s a large part of his nature and not something he is really bothered by.

Oo-O-oO

Alec’s POV  
After Jon leaves he rubs a tired hand across his eyes. He really isn’t in the mood to socialize with them. He’ll go, and encourage Vansha to go just because he knows the hacker misses his family and he’s hoping that will help a little, even though he knows that this side of Russians family will never replace the ones who cared about his soulmate, but maybe they can replace the distant family members who hadn’t wanted him after Jon’s folks vanished. 

He better get this done so he doesn’t have to worry about it later. It takes almost twice as much paperwork running a mercenary company than it did running a crime syndicate and he thought that was too much paperwork. Still, to protect Jon by association he’ll do whatever he has to. Anyone makes the mistake of coming after his soulmate will have a very bad day because he will destroy them. Jon’s given him something James never did: acceptance without question. That means far too much to him to let anyone threaten the hacker. 

Paperwork has to be one of the circles of hell, he thinks as he gets back to it. At least it definitely feels like one.

Oo-O-oO

Valentin’s POV  
Oh fuck, he thinks at five pm when his cab pulls into the triad family home driveway. There should not be this many cars here. There should only be Rina and Zhenka’s cars. There is triple that. 

Getting out of the car and paying the driver, he swallows hard, dread flooding his system as he walks up to the house. Why are there so many people here? He’s pretty sure the car parked next to Zhenka’s is his sister Alina’s car and the one behind it is his parent. Fuck. 

He really hopes this isn’t what he thinks it is because he doesn’t know how Ivan, let alone Aleksei, is going to react to so many new people all at once with no warning. He should call and tell them, he thinks as he opens the door, the sound of chaos filling his ears. Please not all of them, he hopes, that’d be too much. Even the immediate family might be too much.Glancing at all of the shoes in the cubbies, he groans, it's at least the immediate family, maybe a few more. As soon as his shoes are off, he beelines for the phone, trying their number but getting an answering machine. 

Fuck.

Oo-O-oO

Ekatrina’s POV  
Half an hour before Valentin, Ivan, and Aleksei are due  to show up her front door chimes. 

“Watch this Eva,” she requests of her eldest child as she goes to see who it is. 

“Agrippina? Henny, Kees? What are you doing here?” she asks as she lets them in the house. 

Her sister’s head tips upwards as her elder sister looks down her beak of a nose at her, “You said Ivan Valentinovich was coming for dinner, since we know how busy you’ve been, it might have slipped your mind to make arrangements to do the introductions.”

Henny elbows her sister in the side, stepping into the house next to her, “Hello Rina. We’ve brought food to contribute since Hrunya insisted we come.”

She smiles warmly at her sister-in-law, sighing and motioning the other two in. “If it was just Ivan I wouldn’t be too worried, but his soulmate will be here as well, and he’s not really a fan of too many people.” She tells him, not wanting to say that both of her husbands find her to-be son-in-law terrifying. “What did you bring?”

“Bitterballen and stamppot,” Kees answers holding up the two large bowls with lids on them. “Hi Aunt Rina.”

“Hello Kees, here, let me take those so you can get your shoes off. I’ll put them on the dining room table.” She tells her nephew, smiling at the teenager. 

“Thanks, Aunt Rina,” he says as he passes the bowls before kneeling to take his shoes off. 

Turning, she quickly heads to the dining room to put the bowls on the table, happy that there will be plenty of space, even with three extra mouths to feed. Why did her sister-in-law make such big bowls worth? There’s going to be eleven of them, well maybe it’s not too much then. 

Her sister has just come to see what she’s cooking when the door chimes again.

“I’ve got it mama,” Eva states before she can even ask.

“Thank you, Eva,” she replies, heading to the front door. She blinks when she discovers that it’s her other sister Tamara. “Oh no,” she mumbles, worried this is just the beginning. She doesn’t have Ivan’s number or she’d call and warn him, just so he can warn Aleksei. A bit louder she greets her sister, waving her in and taking the blue casserole dish from her sister, opening a corner to peaks inside.  
   
“Good evening Rina, I brought pelmeni. Hrunya called and said Ivan was going to be here, and that she planned to stop by, so I figured I would come too.” Her younger sister tells happily, a moment later her sister is heading towards the living room where Hrunya and Henny are currently at, leaving her standing there with the food. 

Shaking her head, she closes the door and heads to the dining room to set it down before going to check on dinner. She’s making shchi and chicken kiev for dinner, with a variety of steamed vegetables because Gregor said that seemed to be a favorite, along with loaded chips. She’s not sure about the chips, but anything to earn favor with Aleksei is a good thing according to her husbands. 

“It’s looking good,” she comments as she stirs the shchi. 

When the door chimes again, her daughter just nods at her. 

Sighing, and hoping it is not more relatives because the dining room is already going to be full, she goes to answer the door. 

“Hi Aunt Rina!” Feodora exclaims hugging her tightly as soon as the obviously pregnant woman is through the door. “Aunt Hrunya said to come to dinner and bring a dish because she wasn’t sure how many were coming.”

She bites back a whimper at those words, instead focusing on her niece-in-law, “You’re looking radiant, Fenya.” Letting go of Feodora, she looks at her nephew, seeing the slightly hesitant smile on his face, as if he isn’t sure of his welcome. “Come in, come in, shoes off and go in the living room, that’s where the family seems to be gathering. Maks is doing homework in his room, and Elena is playing in hers.”

“Okay, Aunt Rina,” Yulian replies, stepping in the house and heading towards the living room.

She quickly takes the dish from him, so he can help Fenya with her shoes as well. 

Before the door has closed, Genya slips in the house, arching an eyebrow at her in question. Handing him the dish, she beckons him to follow her into the dining room. 

“Apparently we should expect most of the immediate family,” she tells her soulmate, her nerves starting to fray with a combination of excitement and fear. While she has wanted to do something like this, she wanted Ivan to feel comfortable with them first. Not have her older sister invite everyone to her house without telling her. 

“Hrunya,” Genya mutters, “I’ll make sure there is enough to drink love, and keep an eye out for them so I can give them a warning before they walk through the door. I’ll completely understand if they decide not to stay.

She nods in agreement, feeling relief nearly instantly. Of course her intelligent husband understands exactly what the problem is. He’ll help her take care of everything. 

“We’re going to need the fold out table from the basement for this.” She announces after a moment of thinking about roughly how many people she should expect because of her sister’s actions. 

“I’ll go get that now,” he responds, “then go in the living room to keep an eye out.”

“Thank you, Genya, for being such a wonderful husband,” she murmurs, leaning into his side for a moment before straightening to head back towards the kitchen. 

“Door mama,” Eva says just as she opens the oven to check the chicken. 

Chuckling, because sure enough the door chimes, she goes to see who it is. 

She’s barely got it open when Valentin’s mother hugs her tightly before her father-in-laws do the same thing. Each of them taking a turn holding the glass casserole dish full of stroganoff while they do so and while removing their shoes. 

“Hello, hello,” she tells them with a wide smile. She is very fond of her in-laws, but she rarely gets to see them. Most the time Valentin doesn’t come around and her mother-in-law once told her that they don’t wish to intrude to which she had happily explained they never do, she loves seeing them. “Everyone is gathering in the living room.” Motioning to the dish, she offers, “I can take this if you wish?” 

“Dining room table?” Kliment checks with her, as soon as she nods he is off, heading in that direction. Another reason she’s quite fond of him. 

The other two head towards the living room and she can hear rounds of greetings as they enter.

Hopefully someone brings drinks! She thinks as she stands there, considering trying to check dinner but deciding that she will leave it in Eva’s capable hands while she waits here. 

Sure enough less than a minute later she hears the higher pitched voice of her other mother-in-law, Genya’s step-mother Xiu Mei. 

Opening the door, she happily greets them, “Good evening Ilya, Apa Mei!”

“You’ve been fretting,” Apa Mei announces, head tipping to the side as the short, round Chinese woman studies her, “I am happy to see you.”

Taking the two dishes that her mother-in-law is holding, she replies, “Hrunya didn’t bother to tell me that we were going to be having so much company.”

Apa Mei clicks her tongue in disapproval. “I will have a word with her. This is bad manners on her part.” Before she can say anything, her mother-in-law is off. Heading towards the living room where everyone is gathered.

“The smaller dish is polu, the bigger one is lengmen,” Ilya tells her, carefully taking the dishes back once his shoes are off. “I’ll go put them in the dining room then go calm her down. After she gives one of her lectures on family duty of course.” There is humor in his voice, her sister has gotten those lectures on several different occasions. 

“I need to find out who all she invited, Ivan and Aleksei should be here soon, and I need to know how many people there will be.” She comments with a small shrug, “So far it has only been immediate family, hopefully it stays that way.”

He nods in understanding before joining the others. 

“Your sister said she only invited those closest to us,” Genya comments as he joins her by the door. 

She smiles because this reminds her of Christmas and how her husband had waited with her then too. Leaning against him, she relaxes for a moment, thinking about whom all could be left and deciding that it is either six to eight of them. 

“I’m going to put water on to boil and get the extra tea pots heating along with a pot of coffee,” Genya remarks after a minute. “They should be here in less than ten minutes. I know Ivan doesn't  drink, but I will get a few of the good liquors out so Aleksei can have some with the coffee if he’d like.”

“Good idea, make sure that the wine is chilled as well please,” she replies, once more feeling lucky to have such a good husband.

Almost as soon as he leaves the door chimes, when she opens it up, her nephew Stepan is standing there with a box and a wide smile. 

“Aunt Rina!” he happily exclaims, “When I told Artemis that we were invited to bring a dish and meet our cousin, he went a bit crazy.”

Beside her nephew, the tall Greek man smiles happily. “I love to cook and it’s a special occasion. We’re welcoming a new family member! Of course I had to make a variety to bring, I do not know what he’ll like.” He quickly hugs her, slips off his shoes, and grabs the box as he says that. 

Chuckling, because that is so very much like her nephew-in-law, she nods and suggests, “The dining room table is being set up as a buffet.”

“Excellent! I will lay these out, I also brought a bottle of my favorite Mavrodafni.” He comments before taking off.

“He’s probably more excited than me.” Stepan states with a snicker, “Since Aunt Hrunya called yesterday he’s been buzzing with energy.”

Well then, all she has left to expect is Valentin’s sister and family. 

With just two minutes before she expects Ivan and Aleksei, she hears happy laughter of her little niece Galina. 

Opening the door, she opens her mouth to greet them before snapping it shut again, walking up to the house is Valentin’s sister and family like she thought, but it’s the person with them that surprises her. It’s her Grandmother Pelya. This might not be as horrible as she feared. She just has to make sure that Ivan and Aleksei are seated near her. 

“Grandmother Pelya!” she happily exclaims, almost rushing out the door to hug the old woman but stopping herself because that would be bad manners. 

“Rina, dear, why is your sister the one who called me?” her grandmother asks as the old woman steps through the door. 

“Because she decided to invite everyone without bothering to ask why I hadn’t.” She replies honestly. Her grandmother will have a word with her sister and her sister will listen because grandmother is the head of their family.

Nodding sharply, grandmother briefly hugs her before striding off with determination in her steps.

“Alina, Leo, Polina, it’s so good to see you!” her attention turns to her little niece and she says, “Look at how you’ve grown, Galina! If you go up to Elena’s room, she’d love to see you.”

She’s barely finished speaking and the child is off, leaving the adults staring after her in amusement.

“We brought soda, wine, and beer.” Polina states, holding up a small box that she holding. 

“Thank you,” she replies, accepting the box, “If you want to head to the living room I need to check that my part of the meal is done. Ivan and Aleksei should be here soon.”

The three nod and head to the living room, leaving her standing there taking a few calming breaths. That should be all of them except the guests of honor. As she heads to the kitchen, she hears the front door open and close, before she loses track of the sounds due to the people speaking.

“You’ve done such a wonderful job, Eva,” she tells her daughter as she checks the food and discovers it is ready. Grabbing a pot holders, she lifts it to carry it the dining room only to have it carefully taken by her second husband. 

“I assume either Hrunya or Tamara is responsible for this?” he questions as she pulls the dish of chicken kiev out and they carry them to the dining room.

“Yes,” she confirms with a nod, looking over the dishes and happy to see that they all seem to have serving utensils, “Grandmother Pelya is going to have a word with her. Apa Mei has already lectured her as well.”

“Good,” he replies firmly, “I do not know how this will go over. Neither of them likes crowds unless it is their choice and even then they tend to keep them to a minimum.”

She nods, “That’s my concern as well.”

Maksim pops his head in the dining room, “Papa said they’re here.”

“Thank you, Maks,” she tells her son with a smile, turning to face her second husband, “Let’s go greet them before the hordes do.”

“Good idea,” he hums.

Hand in hand, they walk to the front door.

Oo-O-oO

Yevgeny’s POV  
He was afraid this might happen when Rina said she had spoken with her sister about how excited she was for Jon to come to family dinner this weekend. It’s not the first time Agrippina has done something like this. Sadly, he’s sure it won't be the last time. He just hopes it doesn’t cause a problem.

He’s not sure which one he is more concerned about, Aleksei is an obvious threat, but Jon’s one as well. A different type of threat, but still a threat, he realized that early on, watching the way the teenager takes in everything. Amber eyes seeing far too much. Truthfully, he finds the fact the teenager is a match for such a dangerous character a good reason to fear him, despite that, he’s sure as long as he and the others of his triad do nothing to harm the pair they will not become a literal danger. 

When he sees a sleek black car pull up, he knows it’s time and excuses himself to go greet them. It’s only fair he does that. He knows he would prefer a warning before having to face so many.

Slipping his shoes on, he’s out the door as they slip out of their vehicle. 

“Good evening,” Jon calls out, eyes narrowing on all of the cars before the pair stride towards him. 

“Hello Jon, Aleksei,” he replies warmly. “I thought I should greet you and warn you out here that my foolish sister-in-law decided to invite the immediate family to the house for dinner without bothering to inform Rina.”

Amber eyes seem like they flash pale blue gray for a moment before the teenager nods once sharply, a move he has seen Valentin do so many times it's achingly familiar. 

Turning towards the syndicate leader, the teens says something in a language he doesn’t understand, which means it’s not Russian, English, or German. 

They spend several moments having a rapid fire discussion before turning back towards him and switching back to Russian, “We’ll stay, but we will leave if it gets to be too much.”

“I completely understand,” he agrees nearly instantly, relief pouring through his system when he glances at the predator standing beside the teen. He’s been compared to a bear on many occasions because of his build, but Aleksei is some sort of wolf or lion, death to any threats. 

The door opens and the sounds of the family come out, as does Valentin and Rina who greet the pair as they step in. This time his soulmate is wise enough not to say welcome home, instead she uses welcome back which doesn’t seem to bother Jon, and thus Aleksei. 

It’s going to be an interesting night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throughout chapter there are several different food mentioned, this is a quick list and link to each: [Bitterballen](http://dutchfood.about.com/od/starterssnacks/r/Beef-Bitterballen-Recipe.htm), [Stamppot](http://dutchfood.about.com/od/mainmeals/r/Stamppot-with-Curly-Kale-amp-Rookworst-Recipe-Boerenkoolstamppot.htm) (which there are a lot of different types, this just happens to be the one they brought), [Pelmeni](http://easteuropeanfood.about.com/od/russiannoodlesetc/r/pelmeni.htm), [Stroganoff](http://easteuropeanfood.about.com/od/russianmaincourses/r/Beef-Stroganoff-Recipe.htm), [Kleftiko](http://greekfood.about.com/od/lambkidrecipes/r/arnikleftiko.htm), [Yemista](http://greekfood.about.com/od/stuffedvegetables/r/Stuffed-Tomatoes-With-Rice-And-Ground-Beef-Recipe-For-Yemista.htm), [Karydopita](http://greekfood.about.com/od/cakes/r/karythop_simig.htm), [Kourabiedas](http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/food-network-kitchens/kourabiedes-greece-walnut-sugar-cookies-recipe.html), [Tarte Flambee](http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/anne-burrell/tarte-flambee-recipe.html), [Shchi](http://easteuropeanfood.about.com/od/Russian-Soup-Recipes/r/Traditional-Russian-Cabbage-Soup-Recipe-Shchi.htm), [Chicken Kiev](http://meatandwildgame.about.com/od/Cooking_Chicken/r/Chicken-Kiev.htm), [Golubtsy](http://natashaskitchen.com/2010/07/05/golubtsi-recipe-a-classic-russian-food/), [Lengmen and Polu](http://www.theinfolist.com/php/SummaryGet.php?FindGo=Xinjiang%20cuisine), [Moussaka](http://allrecipes.com/recipe/19644/moussaka/), [ Loukoumades](http://allrecipes.com/recipe/212392/loukoumades/), [Farcis](http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/petits-farcis-368949), and [Ratatouile](http://allrecipes.com/recipe/222006/disneys-ratatouille/)


	59. Overload

Jon’s POV  
When they get to the triad home he is surprised to see that there are six cars parked there either on drive itself or the road in front of the house. Since cars seem to be a rare thing or at least an uncommon thing, he wonders for a moment if he scheduled the wrong day into the planner. He doesn’t want to intrude if they are not expected.

Yevgeny meets them outside. The large man is tense, almost as if worried about something.

In the moments to follow he understands why as they discuss the fact one of his aunts apparently did this. Part of him wishes to leave now, but Alec asks the question that is a sure thing to make him face them: what would his parents have done?

His first impression of them is they are loud and he feels the way his soulmate’s solid body shifts closer to him.

Since they weren’t expected, there isn’t a set seating arrangement but everyone is gathering in the living room as it’s the biggest room in the house. Rina asks if he would like tea or something a bit stronger, to which he accepts the tea and nothing more. Alec on the other hand accepts the coffee and the shot of vodka, but only one. Somehow, they find themselves seated between the two oldest people in the room.

To the left is a woman named Pelageya Gordeevich, she is Rina’s grandmother and was a sniper in her youth. Almost immediately that catches his soulmate’s attention and the two fall into a deep discussion about various types of rifles. He smiles at that, and turns his attention to the woman on their right.

She introduces herself as Apa Mei, and the firmness of her voice tells him that is what she will be called until she dies, no matter how many times she becomes a grandmother or great grandmother. Since she has commanded his attention, it seems the others are not willing to fight with her for it, and respectfully keep their distance, for which he is grateful. They discuss languages and the difficulties learning them. She even agrees to teach him Uyghur and Mandarin Chinese.

When Rina announces they may start serving themselves in an orderly fashion, he’s surprised that he and Alec are ushered to the front of the lineup. There are dishes, trays, cups, and silverware at the beginning of the table, while food of all types covers the rest of it. Some of the dishes he recognizes because of his time spent in Russia, some he recognizes because of his dad, but there are two he doesn’t. He keeps Alec away from tartes flambees because it has ingredients that he knows his soulmate will have issues with. Between the two of them however, they have a little bit of every dish laid out and share a tray to carry it on since they will end up sharing the plates as well.

Most of the meal goes alright. Almost calmly considering how many people there are.

He meets the aunt arranged this. A stuck up woman named Agrippina that he wants to bankrupt just for the giggles of it. Of course, she’s married to a decent woman named Henny, and has a teenage son named Kees, so he won’t make her life miserable because they’ve done nothing to him.

His other new aunt, and the one he is related to by blood, is Alina Borisovna, Valentin’s sister. Both of her soulmates are with her, a man named Leonid Martinovich who goes by Leo and a woman named Polina Marie, as is their daughter Galina Leonidovna Mary. Thankfully, both Polina and Galina are perfectly content to go by their first names only. Not that the child is all that interested in him, she finds Elena far more entertaining.

Stepan and Yulian Danilovich are twins, the nephews of Yevgeny through his deceased older brother. Stepan is here with his soulmate Artemis, a charming man from Greece who loves to cook and provided nearly one-third of the choices on the table. Yulian’s soulmate Feodora is a pleasant young woman and six months pregnant. She sees Valentin, along with the state provided doctor, just to make sure there are no problems because complications are common in her mother’s family.

Yevgeny’s parents consist of Apa Mei and Ilya, two of the quietest and serious people here. He can definitely see where the bear of a man gets his bearing from if not his size as Ilya is reed like. He'll probably keep in touch with Apa Mei, just because he finds her interesting and would love to take her up on her offer to learn the languages of her youth.

Tamara is Rina’s other sister, and she seems just like Agrippina. Since she doesn’t have any other family, he considers causing her life hell until Alec murmurs in his ear, reminding him it would probably affect the rest of them too. Just because this isn’t the Soviet Union any more doesn’t mean things have changed so much that it wouldn’t be a problem.

The last people he meets are Valentin’s parents. He didn’t even know they are alive until his father makes the introductions. His paternal grandmother is a warm woman who tells him to call her Mila. Her soulmates are Boris Valentinovich and Kliment Sergeevich. Boris is quiet, studious, and he can see similarities between the old man and himself, which makes the fact they share the same patronymic amusing. Kliment is energetic despite his age, and a bubbly personality that wants to talk about anything and everything but particularly him, wanting to know everything.

He’d say getting to know them is going well. That is, right up until it’s not.

He has just returned from the bathroom, while Alec is in the kitchen getting them fresh drinks when he hears the nasally voice Agrippina comment, “He has poor manners, taking so long to make introductions and only talking to Xiu Mei. Probably learned from his whore of a moth-“

She doesn't get to finish the sentence because his throwing knife embeds itself in the wall by her head, horrifying her into silence.

“You will keep your mouth shut about my mum.” He snarls, his voice cold as ice and low as the whistling wind rushing across the frozen tundra that makes up most of northern Russia. Stalking forward, he continues to speak, “The only reason that’s planted in the wall beside your head instead of in you is the manners she taught me. Do not think for one moment that means I won’t hit the mark next time. It’s my understanding you are the reason all these people are here. I’ve enjoyed meeting them, even if it was sprung on me unexpectedly. However it was in poor form as anyone with manners could tell you. Not that you’d listen. You have your head so high up in the air, and the attitude to match, neither of which reflects well on your upbringing. I would suggest that if you ever see me again you keep your mouth shut.” His hand closes around the hilt of the knife and jerks hard, withdrawing it from the wall in one smooth motion.

Terror fills her wide eyes as she watches him tuck it back in its sheath, her breathing is shallow and rapid, her hands tuck up against her chest.

Turning towards Yevgeny and Rina, he softens his tone as he apologizes, “I will pay to fix that, forgive the loss of temper, I believe it is time we depart.”

“Don’t worry about the wall,” Yevgeny tells him. “I understand completely and know if someone ever spoke of my mother or of Apa Mei in such a manner, my reaction would not be much different.”

He nods to Valentin, turns and leaves. Alec is standing by the door to the room, eyes pale blue and locked on Agrippina with narrow focus. The moment he steps beside the spy, his soulmate pivots and they leave together. The majority of the night went well. Too bad she had to piss him off so thoroughly. He will have to make sure that Rina understands later that he doesn’t blame her.


	60. Sensual Evening

Alec’s POV  
He’s not surprised at how close to the woman Jon’s blade came, or how deep within the wood considering how furious his soulmate is. What’s shocking is the fact the teen did it in the first place. There have been a few times Vansha has mentioned his dad taught him a few unorthodox things, and he’s wondering if that sort of aim is one of them. It also makes him wonder what else Jon knows.

By the time they reach their home, his soulmate is almost calm again.

Home, he repeats in his head, yes, it’s home. Only because Jon is there. Here. His home is with this enthralling hacker.

They have just stepped through the front door when he asks, “Can I see them?” without meaning to.

Immediately, he feels heat rush through him in embarrassment, annoyed with himself for asking for something Jon hasn’t been open to sharing. The entire reason they have separate rooms, even if they sleep together in a third, is because Vansha likes having privacy to disrobe.

“Never mind,” he mutters before the hacker has a chance to answer, planning on heading up to his room as he bypasses the younger man.

Slender fingers wrap around his upper arm, freezing him in place because he doesn’t want to break the connection.

Closing his eyes, he waits for the judgment, the anger he is sure will follow. He’s crossed over the line, otherwise why would his soulmate try so hard not to show skin around him.

“Alec,” Jon’s voice is soft, gentle even, “look at me.”

He follows the quiet order, turning towards the slender man slowly. I was a spy, he thinks, I can face whatever it is Jon needs to say like a fucking man.

Vansha’s hand leaves his arm, both hands coming up to light cup his face, amber eyes watching him speculatively. “Okay,” the hacker simply states, agreeing with his request.

He blinks slowly at the teenager, his mind trying to catch up. That was _not_ the reaction he was expecting.

Smiling gently, Jon kisses him softly on the lips before letting go and stepping back.

A loud and drawn out merrow stops either of them from saying anything as his cat comes stalking over to them, twining around his legs before walking towards the kitchen, occasionally stopping to glance at him like demanding attention now.

Smiling mischievously, Vansha suggests, “You better feed that cat before he starts thinking you’re dinner. I’ll meet you in our room.”

He nods once in agreement before following the cat to the kitchen, remembering why he liked keeping a house keeper around sometimes. Feeding and watering his cat, he also gets a few pieces of meat out of the fridge to put in Rory’s bowl, giving his feline a firm pet before heading towards the bedroom. Only he stops just outside it, pivots and goes to use the bathroom first. He doesn’t want his bladder or bowels interfering with whatever is about to come.

Oo-O-oO

Jon’s POV  
It takes him a moment after Alec asks to understand what his soulmate is saying. It’s the muttered, “Never mind,” that springs him into action.

Just when he thinks they’re going to have a moment, the cat comes yowling into the entryway, glaring for all his furry worth at them. He sends Alec to feed their cat while he heads into their shared bedroom.

After a moment's debate, he decides to use the bathroom, and undress except for his pants in there. Maybe he’ll put those sleeping bottoms on. They hang low enough on his hips that they only cover the very bottom of one of the roots on the rowan tree. Opening the door is one of the hardest things he’s done in a long time, not because he’s embarrassed or shy, but because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen next.

He sighs in relief when Alec isn’t there yet, giving him a chance to get comfortable on the bed first.

Instead he ends up walking over to his desk, hand lightly travelling over the wood. His soulmate decided to put a desk in their shared room, after originally not, because his spy wants to be able to wake up and see him when they fall asleep together. The gesture is sweet.

His hand is still lightly coasting over it when Alec enters the room a few minutes later, stopping just inside the door before slowly stepping in and closing the door behind him.

“I turned the security system on.” The spy tells him softly.

“Good,” he replies with a smile, turning to face the older man, meeting blue green eyes that are lit with some emotion he dare not put a name to.

Alec’s the first to move, closing the distance between them, hand slowly coming up to hover just above his skin.

Biting his lip, he steps forward into the contact. Normally he doesn’t like other people touching him, too much sensory information and it’s annoying. He never minded his parents touching him. They were always good about knowing the difference between okay and not. But with Alec, it’s something very different. His skin feels warm, tingly, wanted, different than he’s used to. He _likes_ the way Alec’s touch makes him feel.

Slowly the long calloused fingers run over his smooth skin, feathery light and curious, almost trembling.

“ _Jon_ ,” his soulmate whispers, touching something deep inside.

“It’s alright,” he promises, “I’m not going to vanish or leave or tell you to.”

Swallowing hard, Alec steps closer so they are almost flush together, meeting his eyes with a gaze that’s definitely on fire. It’s not lust, he doesn’t think, but it’s something important, vital even.

Tipping his head to the side inquisitively, he arches one dark brow as he waits for what’s going to happen next. He wants to take off the layers between him and Alec’s skin, but he’s well aware of how self conscious his soulmate can be.

“What are you thinking?” his spy asks, brows furrowing in focus, a small frown of concentration curving the older man’s lips.

“I,” he swallows, “I’d like to touch you.”

That seems to startle Alec, whose expression becomes guarded for just a moment before relaxing and slowly nodding. “Okay.”

He tries not to beam, not sure how that’d be taken, instead he simply smiles, waiting to see how this is going to happen.

His soulmate takes hold of his left hand, lifting it to the collar of Alec’s shirt, and pressing his fingers lightly over the button before dropping back to his waist. He takes his time unbuttoning Alec’s shirt, hands slowly sliding along the spy’s chest over the thin vest worn beneath. Once he reaches the bottom, he tugs it out of the slacks, watching as it falls open. His soulmate’s hands leave his skin again, this time to shrug the shirt off and letting it hit the floor. A moment later the vest joins the shirt, leaving Alec’s chest as bare as his.

Smiling happily, he shifts closer, tipping his head back slightly invitingly, hoping Alec will get the clue.

Boy does he.

The next thing he knows, Alec’s hands are on his waist, pulling them flush together from hip to shoulder while his soulmate kisses him long and gently. A slow exploration that leaves him breathless and wanting to cause the same sort of feeling in his spy.

He’s not sure when they wind up in the bed, stretched out longwise with their hands wandering all over each other. He just knows he enjoys it. Loves it even. It’s perfect for them. A careful exploration, getting to know every line and curve, dip and hollow. Everything.

By the time he finally falls asleep, he feels wanted, cherished, _loved_.

Loved, he thinks as his mind slows down, dare he think that?


	61. Panic and Disblief

Alec’s POV  
He stays awake long after Jon falls asleep which is a very unusual occurrence.

Why didn’t he have any sort of physical reaction? He should have had a physical reaction. Something, anything, a twitch, a stir, warmth low in his belly that spreads. Yet there was nothing. Nada. Zero. Zilch.

 _Fuck_.

He’s broken. That’s the only thing he can think of. Yes they’re taking it slow, taking their time figuring things out. But what happens when Jon is ready for more and he can’t perform? He’s never had this problem before. Not once that he can remember. He’s had dry spells, but there is a big difference between dry spells and _this_.

Jon will leave him.

His soulmate will leave, and it will be because there is something wrong with him. James was right to reject him. Right to try killing him. He’s defective, worthless, useless. Heat and wetness make his eyes burn like they’re on fire. His chest heaves as he loses control of his breathing, oxygen fighting to keep him from fainting even as his body resists. Yet another sign of weakness.

“Alec,” Jon’s voice cuts through the panic in his head.

Blinking, he’s surprised to discover that he’s now on his back. He doesn’t remember moving. Jon’s straddling his hips almost the exact same way as the first time, their bodies lined up in the most intimate of ways, and he can’t do anything about it. Maybe if he brings Jon to pleasure often enough, the teen won’t mind so much that he’s broken.

Gentle hands stroke his face, wiping away the moisture left behind.

“It’s alright, shhhh, breathe Alec, count with me,” Vansha murmurs comfortingly in Scottish Gaelic, before beginning to count slowly. It is almost the exact same thing that the teenager did when he first woke up from the artificially induced coma. The difference is this time he can see the hacker’s skin, the shared marks between them. The massive rowan that has _bloomed_ since getting to know Jon, the storm clouds that no longer look so angry or violent.

“There you are,” his Rowan murmurs, “I’ve got you, let whatever is bothering you run its course, you’ll feel better afterwards. I won’t think any less of you, if you’re worried about that.”

“I’m broken,” he mutters angrily, furious at such promises that he knows aren’t true.

“What do you mean?” Jon asks curiously, hands still rubbing soothingly along his skin.

“I mean I’m fucking broken!” he snarls, starting to move past panic and towards fury.

“Alec, you’re going to have to explain to me what you mean. All the bones have healed properly, I’ve kept close track of the x-rays just to make sure of that. What’s broken?” Vansha murmurs questioningly, confusion clear on the teenager’s face. “I’ll call Valentin, no, wait, you don’t like him. I’ll call Lidiya. You trust her.”

Slipping backwards, the teen goes to roll off the bed and he realizes that Jon really doesn’t understand.

“Don’t!” he practically growls, instantly feeling like shit because his soulmate doesn’t deserve that. “I’m sorry.” He sits up, rolling towards the other side of the bed, back turned away.

How does Vansha not understand? It doesn’t make sense. It’s a problem every man he knows dreads.

He feels the bed dip, and a moment later Jon’s warm body is lined up behind and beside his but only touching where the younger man’s legs line up on either side of his hips.

“I don’t understand,” Jon whispers, “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No!” he exclaims, pressing backwards into that contact that he craves. “It’s me, there’s nothing wrong with you, you’re perfect.” He’s not sure that the hacker can hear him, he can barely hear himself.

“Let’s try it this way. I will touch or hover my left hand over a body part, you tell me yes or no. Okay?” his soulmate suggests softly, breath hot against his ear.

“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding slowly.

Jon’s hand starts at his shoulder, slowly working down his arm with each no before switching to the other side and repeating the process. From there it goes over his chest and sides, then down as far as the slender genius can reach. The last place it hovers over is the one he has been dreading, the yes.

“Are you having problems peeing?” Jon asks, voice still confused. “Maybe a bladder infection?”

“You really don’t know,” he mutters in shock. How can Jon not know? “I can’t get hard.”

“Oh,” the teen mumbles, “That’s important?”

Scooting slightly forward and twisting around he stares at Jon with disbelief. Is that important? What sort of question is that?

Shrugging, Vansha scoots back a bit suggesting, “Why don’t you get comfortable? I think that this is going to be awkward enough without you putting a kink in your back.”

He can’t stop the laughter, not sure he really wants to as almost all of the tension fades from his body as he continues to laugh. Jon just gets comfortable, leaning against the head of the bed and watching him with a hesitant smile.

Taking his place beside the hacker, he answers the question he has such a hard time believing. “Of course, I’m a red-blooded man.”

Tipping his head, his Rowan thinks about that statement for a few minutes, “Everybody has red blood. I’m still not following how that’s important.” Shrugging, Jon’s explanation makes things a lot clearer and not all at once. “I don’t get hard. Well. I very rarely get hard. I’ve never looked at another person, read a book or story, or otherwise done something that has made me hard. I have had very little interest in anything sexual related. My da explained it to me once, after doing some blood work. There’s nothing physically wrong with me.”

It takes him a few minutes to processes that statement. It seems surreal. Unlikely. Almost impossible. How could Jon not get hard or find people, stories, anything sexually exciting?

“You really don’t understand why it upsets me because it’s not something you have to deal with?” he asks, making sure he is getting this right.

“Yes, exactly, I figured you’d want to have sex eventually, but you indicated you wanted to take our time with this. That meant I had time to discover whether something would change.” Biting his lip, Jon’s voice softens, becoming almost sad, “Do you think I’m broken?”

“No.” he answers firmly. “You said your dad did blood work and said everything was normal right?” when Vansha nods he continues, “Then no. You are exactly as you should be.” If Jon doesn’t get hard or think of sex, then maybe he’s wrong and his soulmate won’t leave him over this. “I’ve never met anyone like that before, I thought,” he swallows, the words are hard even if he knows that it won’t change anything, “I thought you’d want me to leave, or would leave if you realized I couldn’t perform sexually.”

“Oh,” is all the hacker mutters, eyes narrowing as they stare off in the distance, gleaming amber gray tinted and shimmering as the teenager works through what he said like a complicated problem or code. “No. I’m not leaving because you can’t get hard. I’m not telling you to leave because you can’t get hard. It’s not important to our current relationship, later we can discuss it if it becomes important to our relationship.”

He nods slowly, accepting that as best he can.

“Cuddle with me?” Jon asks almost shyly.

“Yes,” he agrees, “always.”

The next few minutes are spent getting comfortable beneath the blankets. He curls himself around Jon, pressing their bodies together from ankle to shoulder, arms secured around a lean waist, legs tangling together. He eventually falls to sleep with his soulmate’s scent filling his nose and warmth keeping him comfortable.

He believes Jon when the hacker says it doesn’t matter. Understands that for now it doesn’t matter. Hopefully by the time it does, whatever is wrong with him will have passed.


	62. Taken

Alec’s POV  
Jon has been kidnapped while leaving the shelter. He doesn’t know who or where they have taken his hacker. He only knows that _Jon is gone_.

Years of being a spy and running a syndicate keep him from exploding and losing his temper, instead he falls into the icy silence that all Double-Os know. Someone is definitely going to pay for this. It’s just a matter of who and how.

He isn’t the type of hacker his soulmate is, but he knows someone who is, his soulmate’s best friend. Using Jon’s laptop, he quickly messages her, asking her to check the cameras that his Vansha installed along the street and in the shelter to see if he can see who took his Jon. A moment later she answers that she’s on and to put one of the earwigs in.

Impatient with himself for not thinking of that himself, he grabs the ones kept in the desk, slipping one in his ear and waiting impatiently for the information she’s going to provide.

 _’Two men in a black jeep,’_ she tells him and he can hear her fingers flying over the keys. _’Plates belong to, no one, the original owner is dead. So stolen. Where did you rat bastards go…’_ she mutters as she keeps looking. _'I think I found them. Wait. No. Wrong plates and window type.'_

“I’m going to try his network,” he informs her. “Update me as you get information.” He orders, walking out of the bedroom and deciding how to proceed. First things first, call Dayesi and tell her to get their people looking.

Even after both networks are searching, he feels restless. He needs to find whoever did this. How would he have tracked Jon before the technology became what it is? Contact the various networks of people and informants, which he’s already done. Next step would be consider who would want to take the hacker, which that is an extensive list, particularly considering his Jon is one of the best hackers in the world for his ability to read codes. When working with Aither, the two hackers are unstoppable. However she’s halfway across the world, and probably not in danger.

 _’I just got a peculiar message,’_ Aither mutters as she types. _’It’s signed Q10 and gives me link up coordinates but it’s piggybacking on a bank transfer code.’_

“Can you confirm it’s Jon?” he just about snarls, hating to feel like he’s failing his soulmate.

 _‘Untwist your panties,’_ she snaps back. _’It’s Jon,_ ’ she declares, _’He’s got a possible concussion, there is at least six men that he’s seen, they didn’t realize he was Q10 or Janus’ soulmate, and they kidnapped him because they thought he was a wealthy socialite.’_ She snickers at that, _’He sort of is.’_

“Where. Is. Jon?” he bites out, voice arctic cold.

 _’I’m going to give you a lesson in patience one of these days, Alec,’_ she mutters in frustration. _’Got him. Here’s the address.’_

She rattles it off and he repeats it back, not bothering to write it down. Grabbing the phone, he calls Dayesi and tells her to put the earpiece in and that they have an address. A moment later there is flirting on the comms as the ladies chat with each other. He doesn’t complain because he often flirts with Jon while on comms in the slower parts of the missions.

Less than five minutes later, Dayesi and Pyotr are there, a group of their mercenary company is already being deployed to clean the area surrounding the building. The chance for survivors who aren’t Jon are fairly slim because nearly all of his people love his soulmate. Somehow or another his hacker has gleefully turned a bunch of criminals into loyal minions.

 _’Sir, the area is being cleared now.’_  Timofey Anatolievich Tsitsyanov, one of his longest lasting captains,  reports. _’I’ve recognized two faces from the old days. Both belong to the Afonin Bratva.’_

He thought he had dealt with them already. Their boss had promised he’d not cause any more problems. His eyes narrow as he decides what sort of punishment to hand out. It’s not going to be pretty. Whoever made the mistake of taking his Vansha is going to find out exactly how long the pain can be drawn out. He’s even certain most of his mercenaries and Jon’s minions will want a piece of the pay back.

 _’Information will be waiting on the laptop for you,’_ Aither tells them, voice icy cold and furious in a way only a woman can play off.

“Perfect,” Dayesi almost purrs.

“We’re here Boss,” Bogdan tells him as the car pulls to a stop.

All three of them draw weapons before carefully exiting the car. Dayesi quickly makes her way through a neighboring building to the roof to cover them. Tsitsyanov presents himself almost immediately, giving an updated status report and informing him that there are six prisoners from their one time rivals. Part of him wishes to order their execution, another part of him wants to deal with them on his own, and there is a part that doesn’t care about them, wanting only to find Jon. He’s rather thankful when Bogdan takes over the orders.

When they blow the door to slip inside, he expects there to be guards, instead he finds puddles of blood, but no bodies. His mind automatically supplies and dismisses the worst case scenarios simply based on how much blood there is. Who’s ever blood this is died quickly and unexpectedly, probably from an artery shot. Following the blood trail leads him to two bodies while Bogdan reports finding another body on the other side of the warehouse front room, and Tsitsyanov reports finding five in the office area in the back.  It appears that all of the kills were made with a sharp blade.

Jon’s using his throwing knives, he thinks, happy that his gift has been useful. Now where is Jon at?

He’s getting ready to actively call for his soulmate when he hears a very soft thump on the floor, the sort that most never realize is from a person. Weapon still ready he waits as still and patiently as a cat on the hunt.

A moment later he’s putting his gun in its holster as Jon approaches, covered in blood and looking like he’s been in a fight to the death. Considering the dead bodies all around that’s probably not too far off.


	63. Don't Mess with the Hacker

Jon’s POV  
He wakes up with a sore head. Before he even opens his eyes he assesses the situation. He’s definitely not at home. This place smells worse than any of the places he’s gone willingly lately. So he wasn’t dreaming when someone made the mistake of attacking him.

Water splashes across his face, raised voices draw his attention, “You hit him too hard!” the first exclaims in Russian.

“I barely tapped him!” a second yells back.

“Then why isn’t he waking yet?” a third demands.

“Are you sure he isn’t?” a fourth asks, and he can feel that someone is watching him.

“Douse him again,” the second voice suggests, “if he’s playing possum cold water should fix that.”

He hears the sound of running water, heavy footsteps, and the movement of the water in the bucket right before he finds himself saturated.

Blinking, he glares at the rough blurs that is the four, no five, men.

“Where. Are. My. Glasses?” he bites out angrily.

This seems to startle the five because for a moment none of them say anything.

Nervously, the second biggest pulls something out of his pocket and tosses them his way. He scoops them up scowling at how dirty they are and trying to use his shirt in order to clean them, what a joke.

Once they’re as clean as he can get them, he slips them back on his face, looking carefully at each of them before asking in a much nicer tone, “Now then, why am I here?”

The five of them look between each other, confusion clear on their face. Good, that’s a good start. He makes it obvious that he is looking at each of them closely when he is actually looking at the areas around them and what he can use to his advantage. These idiots should not have kidnapped him. Now he’s going to make their life miserable. If for some reason he fails to, he is quite sure between Alec and Aither, he’ll be found, at which point these idiot will all die.

There are no weapons around, but there is a computer, and in his hands that can be the most dangerous sort of weapon for him. He’s got some self defense training, his dad saw to that. He’s going to see after this if Alec and Dayesi will work with him to improve those skills.

Future goal, he decides, is making it so he can design his bloody glasses to have wireless internet and have them able to scan people to identify them. He doesn’t care that wireless is currently expensive and there isn’t any technology small enough to make it work with his glasses. He will figure it out. He’s also going to design tiny earbuds, ones that won’t be seeable or able to be scanned without the right sort of technology.

The quiet one is the one who finally answers. “We’ve heard from several little birdies that you pay your employees, no matter how temporary, very well.”

“And?” he drawls, carefully sitting up and watching their reactions.

Four of the five seem unconcerned with the fact he is sitting, the last watches him with curious eyes as if trying to figure out what his next move will be.

Good luck with that jackass, he thinks, borrowing Aither’s term for people.

“We’re going to collect ransom for you!” Three bursts out when no one else seems to be ready to answer him.

“Right,” he drawls, “Well then,” he stands up, brushing his clothes off as he checks to see if he has anything useful on him. Nope, they emptied his pockets. They didn’t take his shoes however so they might have missed the knives hidden them. He’ll be getting his throwing knives and their cases back from them “Where’s my sheaths?”

The fourth one holds them up smirking. The jackass had ripped the cuffs.

Eyes narrowing, he comments, “That was a mistake.”

All five look at each other again, shrugging at each other like they don’t understand. They’ll get it here in a minute.

“The knives to go with?” he asks politely.

“I’ve got them,” the first sneers, “These are too good for someone like you!”

He simply smiles at them.

“Ransom you said? Where’s a working computer, how much are you expecting, and what’s the routing number?” he queries as he formulates a plan of attack.

“This one works,” two tells him, looking at him like he’s an idiot. “Why do you want a computer?”

“Sure it does, it’s also one of the easiest models to trace, but hey, if you want to alert my soulmate and bestfriend to your location that’s not my problem,” he retorts, hoping they will show him to a different computer.  “I’m sure they are already aware I am missing. It’s just a matter of time before death comes knocking on the door.”

“Who do you think you are?” five demands, glaring at him.

He smiles, a dark smile edged with cruelness, “I’m Q10 and Janus’ soulmate.”

Four of the five recognize the name, including number five who stares at him in disbelief.

“You’re lying!” the apparent leader of this group of idiots snarls.

“No, actually, I’m not. When death comes, and it will come, have no question about that, it’s not going to be slow if my soulmate is the one delivering it.” He states sweetly, enjoying the way the four of them glance around like death is going to ghost out of the wall.

“Hall! Now!” Five snaps at the other four.

While the five are stepping out, he studies them, watching the way they move and continuing to work on formulating a plan of action.

One is a scrawny compared to the other four, his right arm is not as good as his left, badly healed injury, he suspects. The arm was moving a bit stiffly as he walked out of the room. That’ll make getting his knives back easier than originally anticipated. Number two is the one who had his glasses, second biggest one in the room, moves slowly but doesn’t seem to have any obvious defects. He does seem to look to the others for guidance. The third is the smallest one build wise, mostly quiet, and definitely in decent shape. Three looks to be the biggest threat in this group, used to be underestimated and overlooked. He’s in for a surprise then. Forth is going down and not going to be able to ever use his arms again after this, he thinks viciously about the biggest one in the group. Massive mistake damaging his sheathes, those were a first Christmas gift from his soulmate. He takes offense to that. The leader is middle of the road for height, nothing stands out about him except the fact he is observant, the question is how observant?

His eyes sweep the room for a camera, and when he doesn’t find one, he leans down to tie his shoes, checking to see if the blades tucked into them are still there.

He’s quite sure his smirk is predatory when he discovers that they missed them. Oh that’s too bad boys. Now it’s game on. Using his sleight of hand trick he pulls them out and replaces his slacks so they look the exact same as they had before the group left and tucks them up his sleeves. Unless any of them are very good thieves or spies, which he highly doubts considering what their plan seems to be so far, well, stupid is the best word he’s got. Seriously, didn’t any of these dumb fucks do any research before deciding to kidnap him?

By the time they re-enter the room, he’s leaning against a wall waiting patiently, having already started running the math calculations needed for speed and weight to deal with each. The prick with his knives is first, the small one second, the one who ruined his sheathes is third, fourth and fifth depends on how the jackasses react.

“You can use the office computer,” Five states, motioning to the open door where two and four are waiting together.

He nods, querying, “Do they have all the information I will need?”

“He has it,” Five replies, motioning to one.

This is perfect, he thinks, they’re making it easier for him. A fact he is very grateful for and he’ll prove it when he starts dealing with these pricks in what he considers an appropriate manner.

Quietly, because now is not the time to attack, he follows them out of the room and down a hall. Based on the size of the last room he was in, the type of materials used, and the other doors they pass, he is able to work out that they are in the back of a warehouse in poor condition. That could be to his advantage, or his disadvantage, depending on where the other room is.

The room that they lead him to is tiny. Only one and him fit, the other two stand guard outside.

Oh this is a nice computer for them to let him use, he thinks gleefully. Guaranteed he’ll be able to reach Aither with it, she’ll be able to tell Alec, and he’ll have a ride out of here. That’ll be perfect.

Sitting down in the chair, he fires it up and waits for it to load, whistling softly to himself as he watches the programming boot up and calculating exactly what abilities this device will have. Once it is ready, he quickly brings the internet up, including a hacking program of his own design which he can access from anywhere with an internet connection but is designed to erase all traces of it ever being there and scramble his keystrokes so no one else can try copying or using them against him.

After sending a quick message off to Aither, he makes a show of opening his links to the banks and asks, “Routing and account number for where the money is going?”

One thrusts a paper at him with the information on it.

His eyes flicker over it and he flashes a smile as he comments, “Thanks.”

“Thanks?” One repeats, confusion clear on his face.

“Yep,” he replies, shoving the chair back and dropping one of the short blades in his hand at the same time, “Thanks.” A moment later he is catching One as he slams the knife right through the center of the throat just below the Adam’s apple.

If you’re ever in a situation where you have to kill, just above or just below the Adam’s apple will be the places to stab. His dad had told him years before. It’s dirty and it's fast, it keeps who you are stabbing from making a noise, make sure to catch them so their body hitting the ground isn’t a giveaway. Expect to remember them at the worst possible times until you’ve finished processing each death, some will take days others will take months or even years. Just remember one thing: if it’s you or them, always make it them.

He lowers the body to the ground, quickly typing in the numbers in the correct categories, programming it to take all the money from the account, and then to erase all signs that it happened externally. Once that is done he wipes the little blade on the jackass, tucks it back in his shoe, and grabs his throwing knives. Now it’s time for the other two.

“I’m done,” he states aloud, stepping to the side of the door and waiting to see what they do.

Sure enough, Four is the first one through the door and he quickly slashes the man’s wrists using his talent for sleight of hand to line the edges of the blades up as he jerks them upwards. Thankfully they are very sharp and cut easily through shirt and skin alike before he quickly steps back and lets the tall man collapse to the ground.

Two looks between him and the two dead bodies on the floor, before he has a chance to get very far or sound the alarm he tosses the blade with deadly accuracy. This is something he’s known for years. A game he used to play with his da to see how small a target he could hit. He needs to get back to it, but until Alec gave him these throwing knives, he didn’t have any. His da had taken them with on the last trip that they vanished during.

He quickly checks the two for any weapons they might have, snorting in disgust when he doesn’t find anything he could easily use. Note to self, learn to use a gun with the same accuracy as a throwing knife. He’s sure Alec can teach him.

Heading back to the other room with his knives ready, he knocks once, waiting for the sound of footsteps to get close enough that he will be able to use whichever sap opens the door as a target practice and shield.

A moment later and he’s targeting and throwing the knife before he has even finished processing which one is in front of him. Three seconds later he gets the other one.

Grabbing his knives, he cleans both before he goes looking for somewhere safe to stay until Alec comes for him. Had he not sent a message out, he’d probably try to make his way home on his own, but since he did send a message, well he wants to be where Alec can find him.

Fifteen minutes later, three more dead people lay on the warehouse floor and he sits patiently on top of a shipping container just waiting for his soulmate. He made sure the bodies are not in his line of sight, it’s not something he plans to deal with just yet. He’ll deal with it once he’s in the safety of his home. Probably talk with Aither about it, he knows she’s killed to defend herself and others, she’ll probably have some advice for ways to cope.

When the door explodes, he smiles at his fire bug because he knows that it’s his soulmate coming for him. Climbing down, he waits until the smoke clears before he approaches them.

“What happened to you? Are you hurt?” Alec demands almost frantically, reminding him that he’s probably covered in blood and dirt. “Bogdan, go get Raskova-“ he presses a finger to his soulmate’s lips.

“I’m fine, small headache but that’s what happens when someone bashes your head in. None of this,” he motions to his destroyed clothing, “is from me.” He glances around before asking “Can we go home? I need a shower.”

Alec nods immediately, wrapping an arm around his waist and leading him out of the warehouse and to the waiting car.

Lidiya takes one look at him and remarks, “You two are perfect for each other. I’ll check you after you clean up.”

“Thank you,” he tells her with a tired smile. Home sounds really good right now.


	64. Aftermath

Jon’s POV  
He’s unsurprised when Lidiya says he has a concussion. Considering they hit him hard enough to knock him out, he would have been more surprised not to have one. Of course it damn near sends Alec into a panic. He spends longer trying to calm his soulmate down than he did killing the people stupid enough to kidnap him.

“You probably know you can't sleep for the next twelve hours,” Lidiya comments, arching one dark brow at him.

“That’s alright, I need to talk with Aither for a bit,” he replies, smiling mischievously as he comments, “After I get some snuggles.”

Chuckling she just shakes her head and waves him away.

In their bedroom, Alec takes his time stripping him of every article of clothing, hands touching everywhere, making sure that the doctor is right. He finds it endearing, even if he should probably find it creepy considering it’s been less than a week since they spent the first sensual night together. Afterwards, he gets a second shower, this time with his soulmate carefully washing him. When they are done, he grabs a pair of Alec’s pajamas to wear, happy they are close to the same height despite having different builds otherwise.

They spend the next few hours in bed just cuddling. It almost feels as if Alec can’t stop touching him, “I’m alright,” he promises his spy, trying for comforting and sure he’s failing because his agent looks disbelieving. “Get some sleep, Alec,” he suggests, kissing his soulmate’s temple.

“What will you do?” the older man asks. He can’t tell if Alec is worried, scared, sad, or all three.

“Grab my laptop and sit here with you while I type,” he answers reassuringly, “I’ll stay up and talk with Aither, it’s been a few days since we had a good chat, and she’s the one who told you where I was right?”

“Yes, she said something about an internet money transfer alert.” His soulmate answers, eyes narrowing questioningly.

“They wanted me to ransom myself,” he answers the unspoken question. He smiles mischievously, “Of course, instead of giving them money, I took all the money they had in the account. It’ll go towards that orphanage I like to visit from time to time. I’m already working on getting that creature in charge dismissed and replaced.”

Alec chuckles, nipping gently at his ear, “Just stay awake.” This time he hears the fear in his soulmate’s voice.

“Of course,” he replies, pressing close for a minute before scooting off the bed to fetch his laptop from the desk in the corner. Originally they were going to keep the desk out of the room but with as often as he works when he can’t sleep, and the fact Alec likes being able to wake up and see or hear him, they decided a desk might be called for. When his laptop isn’t in use it sits on that desk.

Picking it up, he carries it over to the bed where he get’s comfortable, lifting an arm to invite the taller man to snuggle up against his side.

–Aither, you on? – he sends through the private messenger that only they can access because it’s kept on a ghost server.

–I am. You get out okay? – Aither answers a moment later.

–Yeah, maybe, can we talk for a bit? – he queries, glancing down at his Alec while he waits for her response.

-Always,- she answers, –What’s wrong? –

–I killed eight people, have a concussion and am afraid to shut my eyes, – he sends her, one hand dropping off his keyboard to stroke the sardonyx hair.

There is a brief pause, -Have you talked with someone about it?-

–You, now, – he replies, hesitating before stating, –I’m scared to tell Alec. He’s already worried about me. I don’t want him to worry more or feel guilty about it.–

–Find someone you can talk to aloud, I think your Alec would surprise you,– she suggests. –Talking to me is good, talking to someone else aloud is better. Hell, I’ll call and we can talk on the phone if you want. –

–Not right now, Alec sleeping, almost peacefully beside me, I don’t want to wake him up,– he responds glancing down at his soulmate. –He calls me Vansha, and sometimes I think he is going to say something more but he never does. –

–Have you? – she asks.

–I, no frowns – he answers. –I’m afraid of pushing too fast too soon.–

–Jon, that man would worship the ground you walk on if you’d let him. Trust me when I say that, reading people is one of my skills.– Aither informs him, –*rolls eyes*–

–I just,– he pauses his typing, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, –I worry he will realize what a worthless soulmate I am, I’m younger than him, and I just *shrugs*–

–You’re an idiot if you think he’ll ever leave you willingly.– She responds, –Seriously. Have you looked at his record? You both did something for each other no one else has: you stayed. You chose each other over other options. I bet he doesn’t say anything because he is thinking almost the same thing.–

He takes a deep breath, eyes falling on the sleeping spy once more.

–Do you care about him?–

–Yes. – that question requires no thought for him to answer it.

–Do you think you could love him? –

–Yes.– again the question requires no thought for him to answer.

–Are you going to leave him?–

–No.– he answers, glaring at the screen ‘cause he’s pretty sure he knows where she is going with this.

–Then tell him in a manner he’ll understand. You don’t have to say “I love you”, you can use a pet name or nickname for him. He must have noticed you don’t use them all that often, even with friends.– she suggests.

Several minute pass as he cycles through the various variations of his soulmate’s name. Since they are in Russia he should probably use a Russian variation.

–I can give you suggestions if you’d like?–she offers and he’s sure she’s smiling mischievously. The fact their natures are so alike is one of the things that makes them such great friends.

–No, I’ve got it. I was just trying to find one that feels right.– he replies, mind still going through the many variations of Alec’s name.

–As for the other thing: _talk to someone_.– she stresses.

He’s considering ignoring the advice when he sighs and answers her, –I’ll talk with Alec. He’s been a spy and assassin since he was my age, he has probably been there.–

–Good.– she replies, before changing the topic and the conversation starts to flow from there. They discuss everything from the kidnapping and how he dealt with it to what her small little gang has done, to the way his soulmate is restructuring his syndicate, taking it from a crime organization to a mercenary and private intelligence agency.

Hours pass with them enjoying their conversation, they don’t have any competitions but that’s not a problem, they don’t always compete anyways. They’re a lot like siblings, helping and protecting each other as much as they can. He’s only a little surprised that a few weeks back was their first face to face meeting. It feels like they have known each other for their entire life rather than just the last few years online. Of course it probably helps that they know more about each other than anyone else does. By the time they get off, he feels a lot better and is sure he can bring himself to have that talk with Alec, the one about what happened that they haven’t had yet.

Instead, almost as soon as his time of not sleeping is done, Alec tugs him down beside his soulmate, snuggling close and making him the little spoon.

Chuckling, he murmurs, “Let me put the laptop up.”

“Fine,” his spy grumbles, letting go of him just long enough for him to get up and move the laptop back to the desk. As soon as he is close enough to the bed, the older man tugs him back down in place.

“Sweet dreams Sansha,” he mumbles, snuggling in and feeling the way his spy’s arms tighten around him, the smile against his shoulder.

“You too Vansha,” Alec groggily responds.

They only get to sleep for a few hours before he is jack-knifing upright, hand going to his throat to make sure there isn’t actually a hole in it before he collapses back against the pillows. Beside him, his spy makes soothing noises, hands stroking him gently.

The second time he wakes up from a nightmare is worse, he didn’t have a hole in him, instead his sleight of hand had failed and they butchered him while making Alec watch. He has no clue how his soulmate supposedly got there, but it hurt worse knowing he would have left his spy alone than the thought of him dying.

“I’m staying up,” he announces after the second nightmare.

“Okay,” his soulmate replies, yawning and sitting up, strong arms wrapping around him so he’s pressed to Alec’s firm chest.

Closing his eyes, he leans into the older man’s grasp.

“How’s Aither?” Alec queries, breath hot against his ear.

“Decent,” he answers, “helpful.”

“Good,” his spy murmurs.

They sit there in silence for a while, and he wonders if Alec has ever felt like this, like his mind is on fire and the nightmares are real. Almost as soon as he thinks it, he remembers the early weeks when soothing his soulmate into sleep was a common thing because nightmares from being dropped by their soulmate plagued him. Where the horrors and terrors made the older man fight until Alec was fully awake or soothed back into a more peaceful slumber.

When he was speaking with Aither he hadn’t thought of those nights where he didn’t sleep because he wanted to be aware incase his spy needed him. Maybe, just maybe, he should trust Alec to do the same for him. Except his spy needs more sleep, his body while mostly healed, is not fully healed and he doesn’t want to stunt the healing process, but shouldn’t he leave that up to Alec’s choice?

“She said I should talk to someone aloud, that it helps,” he says quietly, almost a whisper of noise in the otherwise silent room. “Said you’d understand, at least some, that you’d stay despite my feeling of weakness.”

Alec’s arms tighten around him, “She’s right.”

Slowly, unsure of himself in a way he rarely is, he explained leaving the house this morning with the intention of going to visit the orphanage. The two men on the street who he avoided getting near because he was sure they were bad news. The third one he didn’t see but knocked him on the head to knock him out. He talks waking up and the math involved with figuring out his plan of attack. How they had taken his throwing knives, one of them ruining the leather cuffs but not noticing his tiny shoe knives. He talks about how he convinced them to take him to a better computer, and in the process separating them so he’d have less to deal with at once. His message to Aither and the money transfer is probably the easiest part to relay.

It’s harder and takes him longer to talk about how he numbered them, and kept track of who they were that way, only to deal with them in a different numbering order. He talks about the fear when the last three showed up, the ones he hadn’t known about. His voice nearly breaks as he talks about his almost panic as he used his throwing knives to take the two out before dodging out of sight within the warehouse. Talks about the game of cat and mouse with the only left. How the last was the only one to come close to injuring him before he was able to drop a series of cargo boxes on top the kidnapper using his talents for math equations to make them fall when and where he needed them.

He talks about the waiting after fetching his blades, the finding a good spot to hide where he’d be able to see the exits but didn’t actually have to look at the dead people. He talks about the adrenaline rush and the ideas he had for improving his glasses, making better earpieces. His memories about his dad are almost as hard as the deaths he caused, but for a different reason. He even mentions the idea of learning to use a gun with the same sort of accuracy he has with a throwing knife.

Through it all Alec just holds him, occasionally nuzzling behind his ear, kissing his temple or cheek, and just being there. He doesn’t know how much time has passed by the time he is done speaking, he just knows he’s exhausted.

“Sleep, Vansha,” Alec whispers against his temple. “I’ll make sure no one and nothing can harm you.”

A heartbeat later he does just that. Maybe they should talk about the diminutives, he wonders before his mind shuts  off.


	65. Assurance

Jon’s POV  
“Keep this weekend open,” Alec whispers in his ear, pressing a soft kiss to the spot behind it before getting out of bed.

Yawning, he stretches as his eyes flicker open. It’s a rare thing for his soulmate to be up before him. Normally he is last to bed and first one up in the morning. “Why?” he mumbles curiously.

“I’ve got a plan, Vansha,” his spy replies, the Russian diminutive form of his name rolling off the older man’s tongue.

“What sort of plan?” he mumbles as he finishes waking up.

A knock at the door draws both of their attention, “Sir?”

“What time is it?” he asks as he sits up.

“Just after eight,” Alec answers, slipping his glasses on his face and bringing the room into clarity.

“Thanks,” he softly states. He slept in nearly two hours. It’s been one hell of a month. Most of it stressful, but some of it was good. Since the night of the surprise family meeting, he’s been trying to remember not to hide the soulmarks as often. That leads to them having some rather interesting times. Including possessively just touching each other, hands skimming over the marks on each other’s skin.

It’s been just a few days since he was kidnapped and rescued, but he’s noticed that it’s affected his sleep some, which he never slept a lot to begin with so that’s not necessarily a good thing. So nights like last are wonderful, he stayed awake thinking about his soulmate long after the older man drifted off. “What are we doing this weekend?”

His soulmate answers, “A romantic weekend with just us,” as he pulls a robe on and crosses over to open the door.

Stephanie Zawisla, one of the orphans he befriended earlier in the year blushes as she holds the tray with tea and coffee on it. Her large eyes trying vainly to look only at Alec’s face and not the opening at the top of the robe that shows off a well muscled chest that became more toned after months of physical therapy and exercising. “I brought hot drinks, Dima and Svete both said hot drinks are needed first thing in the morning,” she stutters out.

It’s her first day by herself in the household, he offered her a job after they moved into this house two months ago, and she spent the first few weeks working in Valentin’s house as Svetlana trained her. Personally, he’s not sure what she needed trained for, but then he can readily admit wherever he has lived has always had a housekeeper. He maintains his own room and the workshop, because those are his domains but he tends to forget about everything else.

“Thank you,” he tells her with a smile, leaning slightly sideways so she can actually see him around his spy.

Her head bobs and she bolts as soon as his soulmate takes the mugs off the tray.

Alec watches her go with an unreadable expression. Shrugging, the tall spy uses his heel to boot the door closed before carrying the cups over.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his soulmate’s chin.

Shrugging again, the green-blue eyed spy settles on the corner of the bed looking lost in thought.

He sips at his tea, thankful for the fact it makes it easier for him to process in the morning. It’s not that he drinks the tea to wake up, his mind does that all on its own but he always has a dry mouth and his focus is always scattered for the first little bit. Generally, a cup of tea gives him a chance to pull his focus in and deal with dry mouth. If he has to be, he can be wake up and go, he just hates doing it because it makes him crabby not to have his few minutes of processing.

When his mug is empty, he sets it aside and snuggles close to the warm back presented to him, chin resting on his soulmate’s shoulder, arms wrapping around a lean waist.

“You’re over thinking,” he murmurs.

“It’s nothing important,” Alec responds, hand coming up to brush over his.

“If it wasn’t important you wouldn’t be over thinking,” he reasons.

They sit there in silence while his spy decides whether to tell him what’s wrong or not.

“You’re not interested in more,” Alec mutters, skin warming beneath his chin.

Tipping his head to the side, he curiously asks, “So?” Perhaps they need to have a full out chat about how his body works rather than that rather brief chat they had.

“My body isn’t,” the older man flushes, turning his head away and closing his eyes in embarrassment, “It isn’t working right. You don’t want me.”

It’s almost like a light clicks on for him as he realizes what Alec means. For such an intelligent man, his soulmate can be a complete idiot at times. It probably doesn’t help that Alec is a spy. He’s well aware that one of the most common methods of information gathering for spies is through sex.

Switching to Scottish Gaelic, he scoots around his soulmate’s body, straddling firm thighs so he can look Alec directly in the face while he speaks. He cups the older man’s face between his palms, gently but firmly turning Alec’s head towards him so they are eye to eye. “It’s all right. There is nothing wrong with either of us. You are healing from trauma. It’s not even been a year since your injuries. You have to give your body time to heal.”

Something flickers in those dark green eyes, he’s pretty sure its disbelief but he’s not calling the spy on it. Not yet anyways.

“As for me,” he shrugs, “Even before I met you I didn’t wake up with morning erections the way I have been told so many blokes do. I’m not really interested in sex. Porn does nothing for me but bore me.” He lightly kisses his soulmate, voice serious as he stresses, _“It’s not you.”_

Alec’s eyes shut as he draws in a ragged breath.

“I’ve come closer to desire since meeting you than I have at any other point in my life,” he informs the spy, “But it’s not something I am built for. At least as far as I can tell.” He shrugs again, smiling warmly even though the older man isn’t looking at him. “That’s okay. I like what we have, what we’re building. It’ll happen eventually, when your body’s healed and mine decides it’s time, there’s _nothing_ wrong with that.”

His spy keeps his eyes closed, so he leans in to kiss each delicate eyelid.

Apparently that surprises his soulmate enough that Alec’s eyes snap open, and they are full of so much emotion it takes his breath away. He’s often thought that his spy’s eyes are a beautiful turquoise because of the fact they are normally a blue green color, but right now they are bright shimmering jade. The disbelief is still there, but so is hope and trust.

” _Alec_ ,” he whispers, hesitantly pressing their lips together because he likes kissing and he wants to kiss his soulmate.

It doesn’t stay that way for long, almost faster than he can blink firm arms wrap around him and Alec is kissing him back. Long, breath stealing kisses that leave him wanting more, even as he feels oddly content for what they have. It’s perfect for them and that’s all that matters. Anyone who tries to convince his soulmate otherwise can deal with him.

When they finally break apart, they press their foreheads together, eyes shut as they simply breathe each other in, taking their time to return to normal breathing.

“I won’t lie to you Alec, not if I can ever avoid it, I might refuse to answer but won't outright lie.” He tells the tall spy seriously, his hands moving to rest on his soulmate’s shoulders.

He opens his eyes, meeting confused green ones and thinking he never could put a proper name to the shade of green they are.

“Jon,” Alec’s voice nearly breaks his heart, because it tells him everything that Alec can’t or doesn’t know how to say.

“I’m not leaving you or telling you to leave just because sex isn’t on the menu right now.” He states, tone fierce as he declares, _”You’re mine.”_

Alec’s arms tighten around him, pulling him as close as possible as firm lips claiming him in a deep kiss.

His hands slide down the taller man’s back, feeling the muscles moving beneath the robe. He can feel the way his soulmate’s leg muscles bunch right before he’s flipped, landing on his back with Alec braced on his elbows above him, still kissing him with all his soulmate’s passion.

Things are going to be explosive, he thinks, when we finally do get past this stage.

He happily surprised to find he is looking forward  it.


	66. Solarium

Jon’s POV  
It wasn’t long after Stephanie woke them up with hot drinks that Alec had kissed him gently before moving him in order to get and up to get dressed. A little bit later, his soulmate leaves for work  and he decides that he is going to take a day and just relax. It’s been awhile since he has done that, mostly because he seems to always be on the go between working on the shelter and working with the Alec’s people.

“Sansha,” he murmurs, getting a feel for it. “Sashenka,” he tries another variation. “Leka,” he mutters as he heads into the kitchen. “Aleka,” he hums in concentration, absently grabbing a pot and filling it, “Aleksa,” he shakes his head, continuing to mutter, “Alya, Leshok, Alenka.”

“Can I help you sir?” Stephanie asks curiously, almost shyly.

It draws his attention, he tilts his head to glance over at the housekeeper and smiling. “I’m just grabbing another tea before heading to the solarium to spend some time relaxing,” he answers calmly.

She nods before returning to whatever it is she’s doing with the silverware.

It only takes him a few moments to get a hot tea made and head towards the solarium at the back of the house. Looking around, he finds a comfortable looking rug near a low table and a collection of potted planted. Glancing about again, he thinks they should do something with the space. Most of the planters are empty, the plants long dead. But he thinks this room could be beautiful with a little work. He’s curious about the small collection of plants that he can see.

Snickering, he decides to look them up and sets his laptop up, using the cases feature as a desk to do so.

Time seems to fly as he works, reading about the various types of plants he can see in the pots around him. It makes him wonder if Alec’s the one taking care of the garden and makes him smile to imagine it. When he is done researching the plants he moves on to reading some of the fiction that Aither sent him, only glancing through a lot of them before deciding against that. He’s uncomfortable with how some of the writers describe the acts of sex. Instead he switches to some research for the shelter and classes, wanting to get supplies and looking for the best places to do so.

The sound of quiet footsteps draws his attention away from the laptop.

“Hello Sansha,” he greets his soulmate, sticking with the variations he had been thinking about earlier and used once before when tired. He notices a slight pause in movement and that his spy is carrying a tray but because of the angle he can’t actually see what’s on it. “Did you get what you wanted done?”

“Vansha.” His spy replies with a nod, setting the tray down on the low table, and kneeling beside him on the rug. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Smiling warmly, he answers, “Please do, I’m just doing some research and reading.”

While his spy gets comfortable, he shuts down the laptop, closing the case so he can shove it away. He’s probably not going to need it for a while.

“Would you like some?” Alec asks softly, almost hesitantly, a small smile teasing at the edge of the spy’s lips, hand waving lazily towards the tray.

Glancing at the offerings, he smiles when he realizes every single item is finger foods, but one’s he prefers.

“Yes,” he answers as he changes how he’s seated to make it easier for the older man to offer him a bite and for him to eat it.

Excitement strums through his system. Alec’s trying to connect with him, some would even consider this a romantic gesture.

Sansha selects a piece of cheese, eyes warm as the spy offers it to him.

He feels affection for his soulmate, warmth flooding his body.

Accepting the piece of cheese, he bites lightly into it, taking his time chewing as he watches his spy. He wonders what Alec is thinking. What brought on this? It's only been a few weeks since they moved in and agreed to date, only been a week since the relationship turned sensual. Although it’s been one hell of a week.

He softly asks, "Would you like one?"

Nodding slowly, Sansha agrees with a hesitant smile. "Yes."

Knowing his soulmate's preference for meat, he picks up a sausage, offering it to the spy and feeling his skin heat up as Alec takes it, lips closing around it and lightly brushing his fingertips.

Selecting a piece of fruit, the older man offers it to him.

They spend a while just taking turns feeding each other.

Getting bold, he brushes his hand along the scarred side of Alec's jaw. He really does enjoy the way the his soulmate's skin feels beneath his fingertips.

His breath catches at the hot look in Alec’s eyes, there’s vulnerability and need, and something he won’t put a name to in those turquoise orbs.

“Are the plants yours?” he asks softly, motioning to the pots surrounding where they are sitting.

Sansha simply shrugs, not answering.

He smiles, tipping his head to study the spy.

“May I?” he requests quietly, hand lifting just slightly, stopping at the curve of his soulmate’s jaw.

“Yes,” Alec replies, voice rough with emotion.

Slowly, he draws his hand further down, running along the burned skin, eyes narrow in focus as he listens to the way his soulmate’s breath catches. The small sounds that make him want to tug the older man close and just sooth away any distress.

When he gets to the collar of the shirt, he meets Alec’s eyes, curious whether he should stop or not.

Oo-O-oO

Alec’s POV  
He doesn’t understand how Jon can tolerate touching his ruined skin. He can barely stand touching it and it’s his body. Yet that’s exactly what the teenager is doing. Slender fingers ghost over his face, along the scarring and down, stopping at his collar as the younger man looks at him curiously.

Swallowing, because he doesn’t understand what his Rowan’s motivation is, he nods slowly, one hand coming up to curl around Jon’s for a moment before guiding his soulmate’s hand to the buttons and letting go.

Slowly, carefully, like he’s something important that should be cherished, Jon’s fingers flick open the buttons.

He’s not important, no matter how much he always wanted to be, at least to James. He wasn’t though. If he had been, maybe things would have gone so much different. He wouldn’t have ended up with ruined skin or being dropped to his death by his soulmate.

He wouldn’t have met Jon.

That realization turns his blood cold. Maybe he is feeling possessive because they have spent the better part of six months in each other’s company close to non-stop and to his amazement, Vansha doesn’t seem to mind. It can’t be because they’re soulmates. Otherwise things would have gone differently with James. But he can’t doubt that there is something.

_Something important._

He snaps out of his head when the teenager reaches the bottom of his shirt, fingers lightly skimming along the center of his chest and the muscles now showing. He might not be in be in perfect shape, but he is still in excellent shape and he has been slowly restoring his body, probably pushing himself far too fast but he doesn’t want to seem weak or helpless. He was that long enough while recovering.

It takes him a moment to realize what the hacker is doing with such a look of concentration. Jon’s mapping the changes of his body.

Why? He wonders, wait, the first time his Rowan mapped his body, he wasn’t expected to live. The second time, was when he was recovering but he is pretty sure that the teenager was trying not to get attached, particularly when he remembers the fact Jon thought he’d leave. He’s fairly sure that Jon didn’t do this last week when they spent the evening in bed because he was the one doing most of the touching.

Why would Jon want to touch him? He still doesn’t understand.

“I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but I like the texture of your skin,” his soulmate murmurs as long fingers carefully trace over the soulmark shared between them: the rowan.

He’s distracted by how it feels. Like there is lightning coursing through his body. Lighting every nerve up in the best possible way. How can he feel like the younger man’s touch is made of electricity and have it be a good thing? So when finally realizes what the younger man said, he’s baffled.

“Why?” he demands hoarsely.

“Why not? This proves your will, your desire to keep going against impossible odds. I’m not happy about the pain they caused or still cause, but they brought you to me,” Jon answers with a shrug. Blinking at him, the teenager offers gently, “I can stop if you’d like?”

That’s not the right answer, his mind tells him, no alienating the soulmate that still likes touching you. Even the odds, it’ll make you feel better.

“No,” he answers, “don’t. I just,” he shrugs, not able to put words to it.

Somehow Jon gets whatever he was trying to say. Lifting the hand off his chest, he’s almost startled when the teenager tugs the jumper and tee-shirt off and drops them beside them before resuming the soft exploration.

He takes the action as an invitation, even if he should ask instead, and brings his hands up to run along sleek muscles. He hadn’t been wrong about how the younger man is built. The only part he had been mistaken on is the soulmarks. Beautiful on Jon’s skin in a way he can never remember his being.

Only years of training keep him from jumping when his Rowan squeaks and jumps back, a bashful smile greeting him when he looks at Jon’s face. Apparently that was a ticklish spot, well he’ll avoid it, because he doesn’t like the nervousness in the hacker’s eyes.

So he smiles back, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders since its open anyways and lightly wrapping his fingers around Vansha’s hand to guide it back to his skin. He might not know what to make of it, but that doesn’t make it less enjoyable. Maybe it makes it more enjoyable because it’s not for one of the many power related reasons he can think of. This is definitely not how he expected his day to go when he got home, but it’s nice.


	67. Change of Plans

Jon’s POV  
He wakes up before Alec, not an unusual occurrence. What is unusual is where they are currently at: the rug in the solarium, both down to their pants. They had drifted to sleep after spending what felt like hours taking turns feeding each other. Followed by one of the most intense exchanges of touch he can ever remember having. How do people find that sort of intimate touch sexual? Wouldn’t it be too much if it was?

Giving a small shake of his head, he decides to think of that later, as in when he is not still firmly wrapped in strong arms and needing to pee.

“Alec?” he murmurs softly, trying not to startle his spy, he’s well aware of how badly that can go.

His soulmate makes a humming noise against his shoulder, peppering the skin with feathery kisses.

“I need the loo,” he informs the older man, hoping that will be enough to get his spy to let go.

“Why’d we fall asleep here?” Alec grumbles as the older man lets go and sits up, shoulders and neck rolling.

He shrugs as he scrambles to his feet, startled he still has his glasses on considering, “We fell asleep spending time together. This room is a bit hotter than most of the house. While the rug is rather plush and comfortable.”

Without bothering to gather his clothes, he heads to the closest bathroom which happens to be the one just outside of the kitchen.

According to his internal clock, it’s the following morning, they slept pretty much the entire night in the solarium. Today they’re supposed to go over to Valentin’s triad home, apparently it is Rina’s birthday and she would like them to come to dinner. He’s not sure how he feels about that, however they had accepted, mostly at Alec’s encouragement. He misses having a family that care what happens to him, misses his family.  Still, he understands the sentiment behind the action from both sides of it, and appreciates it. Truthfully though, he’s pretty sure that he’s going to form closer familial bonds with Alec, Dayesi, Lidiya, and unfortunately Pyotr, than he ever will with the Korolov’s. He doesn’t count Aither because he’s had better bonds with her already, they are too much alike not to.

Still, since they are going over there for Rina’s birthday, they should acquire her a gift. What sort of gift however? He had a hard enough time figuring out a Christmas present.

Absently, he washes his hands and leaves the bathroom, barely noticing the housekeeper and the way she jumps backwards startled. He’s too focused on the fact he is trying to figure out what to get his step-mother. It should be something thoughtful but what?

“Jon?” Alec calls out, drawing his attention with the amusement lacing the older man’s voice.

Turning to face his soulmate, he responds distractedly, “Yeah?”

“You just startled the housekeeper into dropping the tea and coffee everywhere,” his spy informs him with a chuckle.

Turning back towards the other teenager, he actually takes the time to look at her, noticing exactly what his soulmate is talking about. “Sorry,” he states sincerely.

She nods, swallowing a few times, looking like she’s close to tears.

“Why don’t you take the day off with pay?” he suggests after a moment of thinking about what to say. He doesn’t remember Svetlana or Ginny being this jumpy. Is it because they are older and used to pretty much anything? Maybe they should find a housekeeper with steadier nerves. It’s something to think about later. Right now he needs to figure out the gift problem, right after he takes a shower and gets fully dressed because he’s getting cold.

Pivoting, he heads to the bedroom upstairs where most of his clothing is, but not all of it, mostly because it’s slowly migrating its way down to the shared bedroom. He’s careful about what he picks to wear, not wanting to wear any of the gifts he got from Aither since she often sends him shirts for his geeky, nerdy self, rather than the plain ones he prefers to wear around other people.

After his shower, and still without having a cup of tea, actually that could be the problem, he never seems to think very clearly before he’s had tea in the morning, no matter how little sleep he got. He should definitely go make himself a cup.

Leaving the bedroom, he is on his way to the kitchen when Alec stops him with a light hand on his arm, “Tea.” The word is nearly sneered, but there is affection behind it, along with amusement.

Gratefully, he accepts the cup, taking a long sip before just tipping his head back and downing it. Almost immediately he starts to focus in the way he prefers.

“Thank you,” he tells his soulmate. “I’m trying to figure out what to get Rina since we’re supposed to go over there tonight for dinner.”

“That’s tonight?” Alec questions thoughtfully, as if he had forgot that fact.

“Yeah,” he agrees with a nod, “I have no idea what to bring her. I realize Russian gift giving is different but,” he shrugs. It’s not how he was raised.

“We can go find a gift before heading over?” his soulmate suggests, “Leave after lunch, spend some time looking until we find something that would be right?”

Smiling, he nods in agreement, “That’d work.”

“I’m going to work on paperwork until then,” Alec tells him with the hints of a smile.

“Okay” he respond, “I’m probably going to call Dmitri and see how everything is going since I didn’t come by yesterday and wasn’t planning on going by today.”

The two of them head in different directions. Alec goes towards the library where the spy seems to prefer working on paperwork while he heads to the small office to make the calls without being a bother. He also needs to send a quick message off to Reid about funds and planning. The rest of the morning is spent like that, with the two of them working, he eventually migrates to the library with his laptop and they sit in companionable silence.

He’s currently working out the security system he plans in putting in place and how to do so. Whether he wants to hire someone else to do it or whether he will do it because it’s something he can do. He’ll probably do it just because he can. He hasn’t done a lot of tinkering lately and he’s starting to get an itch to fix or take something apart.

After when they normally have lunch, Alec suggests, “Let’s go eat before going gift hunting.”

Drawing out of his mind and the equation he had been running, it takes him a moment to catch up before nodding in agreement. “Let me put the laptop up.”

Sansha just nods in agreement, watching him with laughing green eyes.

He needs to do another sketch of his soulmate. Actually, that’s it. He’ll do a sketch of the family and frame it. When he gets back he tells Alec about his idea, getting a nod of agreement from the spy before they leave the house.

They have just reached the café he first took Alec to at Christmas, one they have come back on several occasions, when a car pulls up beside them. Instincts scream get down even before his soulmate throws an arm across his shoulders and pushes him. Twisting around, he unlatches the door and tugs the older man with him as he goes out it, a low hiss of anger building in his throat.

As soon as the shooting stops, he’s up, throwing knife in hand, and letting the damned thing sail. Because of how sharp the blade is, it cuts right through the tire and the car immediately slows down as the metal of the rim hits the ground.

A moment later Alec is off, and he’s fairly sure whoever is in the car isn’t going to make it very long. Frustrated, he glances at the car and sighs before heading in the café to use the phone to call Dayesi and ask her to bring a tow truck and maybe a cleanup crew. She doesn’t like the sound of that and promises to be there shortly.

Heading back out to the street, he’s unsurprised to see his spy walking back towards him calm and collected. His throwing knife in the older man’s hand.

“Nice aim,” Alec tells him, offering the knife back.

“Thanks,” he replies, not looking at the car that the shooters were in. “Dayesi is on the way with a tow truck and cleanup crew.”

Laughing, his soulmate just shakes his head.

They end up not getting lunch, mostly because his appetite is gone and Alec’s now out for blood. Sansha has Bogdan take him back to the house, which he really would have preferred Dayesi or even one of the minions.

“You stopped the car with a throwing knife,” his soulmate’s second states, eyes never leaving the road, almost as if the dark haired man is seeking confirmation.

“Yep,” he replies, popping his ‘p’ since he knows it gets on the other man’s nerves.

“How?” Bogdan nearly demands, disbelief coloring the tone of the one-word question.

“Good aim and a very sharp knife,” he retorts.

Nodding slowly, the older man is quiet until they get to the house, as they pull up to the sidewalk, Bogdan turns to him and softly says, “Thank you.”

His eyes narrow in anger, trying to determine if the second is being mocking or not before he nods sharply and slides out of the vehicle without another word said. He’s got things to do, and will consider the inflection and tone later, along with that gleam he didn’t quite recognize. Maybe he’ll do a quick sketch to send to Aither and ask her opinion on it.

Right now, he’s got some pictures to sketch. Damn it, he didn’t get the picture frame he wanted. Whatever, he’ll get the pictures done. Hopefully that will be enough. It’s a good thing sketching comes to him naturally.


	68. Dangerous  Meeting

Alec’s POV  
He doesn’t care if he gets shot at while on a mission, that’s part of his job, what he does mind is someone making the drastic mistake to attack him with Jon. Apparently someone is harboring the delusion just because he is changing the Janus Syndicate into a mercenary company he’s not still very dangerous or very deadly. He’ll have to fix that. Immediately.

Once Bogdan has Jon in the car and is on the way back to the house he turns to Dayesi, eyes flint hard and cold as ice. “Who’s paying for this?”

Holding up a registration, she answers, “Asmik Bratva, this car is registered to the oldest son of Fetis Asmik, Iov.”

“Let’s pay them a visit,” he suggests coolly. “Right after we stop at the safe house so I can change into something a bit more,” he pauses for a moment, considering what he’s planning, “appropriate.”

She smirks in response, nodding once sharply and directing Dusek Tkachovsky, the head of cleanup, to take the car back to the compound and get a second cleanup crew ready. The bodies will be disposed of by incineration, a practice he put into play several years ago as it leaves no evidence behind. The fact they can make legal money on cremation as well is just an added bonus.

At the safe house, he gets out his older holster, sighing because he actually likes the one Jon adapted for him better. Once he has it in place, all weapons secured, he puts his suit coat back on and meets his deadly ex-mistress in the front entry.

“Shall we?” he asks, motioning to the door.

“Yes,” she simply agrees but he knows that she is just as furious as him, if for different reasons.

Neither of them takes someone attacking them when they are with their loved ones very well. He can still remember the time some idiot decided to try and attack Lidiya because the fool thought that tiny Dayesi couldn’t do anything about it. It was a rather drawn out and painful death, she cut him to ribbons, making sure not to hit any of the major arteries. However she had nicked part of his intestines and left him for dead. According to the news, he was found hours later, bleeding and delirious, no evidence ever surfaced as to who did it.

The ride over is silent, they don’t need to speak, they both excel at reading the others body language, years as lovers as well as co-workers has given them that edge.

When they pull up to the mansion, a footman opens the doors for them, taking the car to the side and parking it while they walk in. As soon as they are in the door, they are shown to the old man’s office by what he assumes is a low level thug.

His eyes sweep the floor plan and over all of the security measures as they walk, he knows that beside him Dayushka is doing the same thing.

“Good evening,” Fetis Asmik greets them as they enter the office, the doors being closed behind them. “What can I do for you?”

Dayesi smiles sweetly, answering slowly as if talking to an imbecile, “You can tell us why your men made the mistake of attacking the head of the Janus Syndicate.” It is not a question. They don’t actually care why the mistake was made. They are simply here to correct it.

The old man swallows, grabbing his glass and emptying it before answering. “I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Oh,” she hums, a small distressed tone, maniacal glee behind the noise. “That’s really too bad.”

“What’s this woman talking about?” Fetis demands with an uneasy glance between them.

“I hope you weren’t expecting Viktor, Pavel, Boris, or Yegor to come back.” She tells the man sweetly, tucking her hands into her sleeves behind her back. To anyone without training she simply looks like she’s putting her hands somewhere warm. He knows however that she’s waiting for his signal before dealing death.

“I was on my way to lunch with my soulmate, four men in a vehicle registered to you, all with the Asmik tattoo on their shoulder made the mistake of firing on us.” He states calmly, almost conversationally, as if discussing the weather.

Again the old man swallows, this time pouring himself a glass of water from the pitcher sitting on the corner.

This is pitiful, he thinks, at least have the balls to own up to your death warrant.

Rising, Fetis utters, “What sort of host have I been? Would you care for refreshments? My son will fetch them.”

“I don’t think so,” he replies smoothly. “Tell me, how many children do you have?”

The old man’s eyes narrow, “My three sons are adults. My daughter is still in school.”

“Which would you prefer,” he proposes, “I shot you as many times as my soulmate was shot at or we kill your children?”

All the color drains from Fetis’ face, years as a crime lord are probably the only reason the man isn’t begging yet.

“No!” the man in the corner exclaims. “It was my fault. Leave father and my family out of it.”

“Iov! Be quiet!” the head of the Asmik Bratva snarls.

He turns partly towards the young man, internally sighing because this boy can’t be much older than Jon but he is going to make an example of him. This is not acceptable.

“I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t punish them for my actions,” Iov begs, the sort of behavior that annoys the hell out of him.

He doesn’t take well to people making the mistake of attacking him and then begging for forgiveness.

Dayesi’s hands stay tucked in her sleeves as she crosses her left leg behind her right, head tilting thoughtfully. The mischievous gleam in her eyes tells him she’s coming up with an alternate plan. The question is: what?

“Why shouldn’t I make an example out of you?” he demands coldly, any trace of civility vanishing. “The only reason I am offering any sort of mercy is this is the first time your family has made such a grievous error.”

The young man swallows hard, but doesn’t fall to the ground pleading, that would have been an instant gunshot to the head.

“He is my responsibility. I will accept fault for the attack.” Fetis declares before Iov has a chance to respond, voice final.

“It’s my mistake, I should be punished.” Iov counters, eyes panicking.

“Your idea, my lovely blade?” he asks Dayesi, lips quirking in a dark smirk.”I see you plotting.”

“Castrate the boy and give him to Ivan.” She suggests cruelly.

They do not know that his soulmate is actually a good person, that Jon would put the boy to work but punish him no further. This could be a fate worse than death as far as the leader of Asmik Bratva knows.

“I could do that,” he muses, eyes flickering between father and son, “Would it send the right message however? Just because I have decided to leave an active life of crime behind does not mean I wish for fools to get the wrong idea.”

“I’ll do it, I’ll willingly submit to this,” Iov stutters out, eyes wide in horror.

He turns to Fetis and offers, “I will accept that, on the condition you are the one who castrates him while we observe.”

Before he never would have accepted such an offer but Dayesi reminded him of the simple fact that he is trying to change his life. He could make an example out of this boy and the rest of the family. He should make an example out of them. The only reason he hesitates is Jon. What would Jon do? The people who attacked them are already dead. He broke their necks while they were trying to figure out what happened. Jon though, Jon would give them a second chance, and then make their life horrible or sacrifice them if they blew it.

“Adrian, your knife,” Fetis orders, hand held out towards the man standing on the other side of the desk. “We accept the offer. From today forward I have only two sons and one daughter. Our bratva holds no ill-will over this, and hope the Janus Syndicate accepts our apology.” Motioning to the front of his desk, the old man’s voice is tired, “Iov.”

Iov swallows hard, but crosses the room to in front of the desk.

Of the other three men in the room, the bigger two move over to pin the young man down after the slacks and pants have been pulled out of the way. They watch the proceedings, including the way the old man pulls vodka out of his desk and coats the blade in it before using a lighter to heat the edge. He’s certain it is not hot enough to completely cauterize the wound, but he gets the logic behind it. It will definitely lessen the chances of infection. Screams fill the air a moment later, slowly trailing off to whimpering.

“He is yours,” Fetis declares, sorrow lacing the old man’s voice.

“If any of your seek revenge for this, or attack me and mine again, I will kill every last one of you.” He informs the old man, voice icy cold and hard as steel.

“I understand, none who belong to his family or any of our allies will attack you on our behalf.” Fetis agrees with a sharp nod, turning away from the sight of Iov.

He’s definitely not telling Jon about this until after dinner with the family. Glancing at a clock, he’s startled to see he might actually make it.


	69. Ivan

Iov’s POV  
His entire body is in excruciating pain. His uncles have to practically drag him to the vehicle and shove him in the boot because he can’t currently work his legs. He curls into a fetal position, tears streaming down his face. He flinches at every bump and bites the inside of his cheek to keep from making any noise that may make Janus and his companion decide he needs to be further punished.

When he heard the rumor that Janus was getting out of the syndicates and changing to a semi-legal mercenary company, he thought that meant someone new had taken over. He never thought that Janus, the one his father had met previously during dinners and events, was the one still in charge. He had just come to speak with his father about what he ordered when his cousin had announced that Janus was there.

Terrified, he held his silence, eyes wide as he considered the implications. How is that possible? Had he received bad information? What has he done? Was he betrayed? What would happen to his family because of him? How can he stop this from getting worse?

The minutes that follow seem like hours as the terror builds low in his stomach and spreads until he can barely control the trembling.

The four he sent are dead, he learns, the car had held Janus and Janus’ soulmate destroyed but they are uninjured. That alone has him ready to admit his mistake even before the most feared syndicate leader gives his father a choice in punishments. His father would surely die from being shot repeatedly. He’s the oldest son, he has to admit his fault to protect them. The family is _always_ more important than the individual.

He accepts the punishment after several tense moments and a bit of an argument with his father. He’s sure that as long as his family doesn’t attack the Janus Syndicate again, they will be left alone. Janus is known for being vicious and deadly, but he’s also known for keeping his bargains unless given a reason not to. At least by the old families like his, those that were around during the rise of the Empire and during its fall. He doesn’t know if newer crime families have had the same sort of experience.

He doesn’t know who this Ivan is, there are so many Ivan’s it could be anyone. Still, he will accept the punishment because it saves his family.

They hit a particularly bad bump and he can’t stop the groan of pain that bursts forth.

Janus and the woman are speaking to each other, but it isn’t a language he knows. Hopefully whatever they are saying isn’t going to end in his death, this hurts so damn much. His stomach and legs feel like they’re on fire, blood is slowly seeping from the place where his balls used to be. He feels so cold despite sweating.

When the vehicle comes to a stop, the terror returns tenfold and he nearly hyperventilates before they even open the boot up.

Two men pull him from the boot, practically carrying him through the yard where he can feel every pair of eyes on him. A moment later he finds himself tossed onto a cot, where he curls back into the fetal position, arms wrapped tight around his legs as tears still streaming down his face.

Because of his mistake he has lost everything. Before this is done he may even be dead and it’s all his fault. He should have made sure the information he had was right first. He never should have risked his family.

The next time he is aware, there is a woman directing two men to undress him in a non-nonsense tone of voice. He knows he should be able to understand her, but he can’t through panic coursing through him. Why are they undressing him? Is this part of his presentation to Ivan?

“Calm down,” she orders him firmly, “panicking will do you no good. I am the doctor for this facility, one of them anyway. I am making sure you do not bleed to death or get an infection. Viktor will bring you clean clothes.”

An older man, probably older than his father, nods sharply in response, turning to bark orders at two other men that he just noticed by the door before turning back towards them.

“Out you go,” she tells Viktor and the pair that undressed him, pointing to the door.

Whoever she is must have some pull, because that man looks like he is not used to being given orders by anyone let alone a woman.

Sighing, she closes the door behind the men, then turns to him, eyes sweeping over his naked body, making him very self conscious. The tattoo on his left shoulder marks him as a member of the Asmik Bratva. Down his left side is a string of letters and numbers, they make no sense to him, but they must mean something, they appeared when he was seventeen: his first soulmark. On his right hip is a harp with vines twining up the back of it, it appeared when he was twenty: his second soulmark.

Not knowing what to expect, he looks between his legs, tears silently pouring down his face when he sees his flaccid penis with empty space where his balls used to be.

“Turn over and widen your legs,” she orders him. When he hesitates to do as directed she snaps furiously, “You can turn on your own or I can have Viktor order two of the new recruits to do it for you. It’s your choice.”

Swallowing hard, tears still running down his face though his sinuses are beginning to clog and his eyes burn, he rolls, biting his arm to keep from screaming because it hurts so much.

“You’re alive. Some would consider that lucky since Janus doesn’t take well to people trying to kill him.” She informs him coldly.

“I know,” he whimpers, “I’m sorry.”

He can’t stop the scream when she checks the location his balls used to be, or the second scream when something hot is applied to it, the smell of burning flesh filling the air. Horrifying because he knows it's his flesh.

She asks a series of questions in rapid succession which are hard for him to answer because his throat is raw from screaming, but he answers them as best as he can. He doesn’t want this to get worse if that’s even remotely possible. He yelps in surprise when she jabs a needle in his ass. It’s the last thing he knows.

When he wakes up again, he has a pair of pants on and a blanket covering the rest of him. There is a teenager leaning against the wall closest to the door, fiddling with what appears to be a cell phone, but not like any phones he knows of.

He has to rub at his eyes to get the crust off of them and his throat feels like he’s not had anything to drink in the last year.

“I’m not sure if I should be impressed with the restraint shown, or sigh in frustration over the extremes,” the teen murmurs in English, watching him with narrow eyes that he realizes aren’t actually on the phone. “I’m well aware you’re awake and trying to figure out what to do. I’d suggest drinking the water.”

Slowly, because every movement sends pain shooting through his body, he shifts into a sitting position, picking up the water bottle hesitantly before opening and drinking greedily.

“Why did you order the attack on the car?” the teens voice is soft, gentle some would even call it, but he is positive whoever this is, is used to being obeyed because of the tone is one that brokers no room for refusal to answer.

What’s the worst that happens? He thinks, maybe this person will tell Ivan he cooperated. “My cousin Iosaf Denisovich Zuykov of the Vasin Bratva, and his friend Yermola, also from the Vasin Bratva,” he answers slowly, “they told me the old Janus was gone, well implied it. I thought getting rid of the new one so soon after assuming power would break the network, our family would be able to take over contracts held with them.”

“What sort of education do you have?” the teenager asks, still watching him with narrow eyes.

He looks at the water bottle longingly, wishing there was more as he answers, “Father,” he stumbles over that word, knowing that his father will never acknowledge him again because of this mistake. “Father made sure I can understand Russian, German, English, and Chinese. I’m good with numbers. Not so good with history or science.”

“Well then, you’ll start teaching the orphans math and languages as they desire.” The teen tells him, turning towards the door and confusing him.

“Who are you?” bursts from his lips before he can stop himself.

Turning towards him, the teen’s lips curve into a smirk, “Ivan.”

His eyes widen and he stares in horror as the teenager, Ivan, leaves. What has he done? He never expected Ivan to be younger than him!

Oo-O-oO

Jon’s POV  
“I’m not sure if I feel bad for him or not,” he tells the small group gathered outside the room. “He’s a terrified kid, even if he’s older than me.”

Alec and Dayesi just shrug, Pyotr scowls but nods, and Lidiya sighs.

“So the parties responsible for this are from the Vasin Bratva. According to Iov, their names are Iosaf Denisovich Zuykov and Yermola.”

The two spies share a look and he knows that things are not going to go well for them. It’s out of his hands, and now in his soulmate’s. At this point, his empathy is almost at its limit even if he ends up feeling bad for them later for not giving them a second chance. It will all depend on how they act, he’s sure.

“He’ll be teaching at the shelter after Lidiya clears him,” he tells the group.

Lidiya smiles at that, nodding slowly, “A good penance.”

The spies just shrug again and Pyotr keeps scowling. Yep, these are definitely his family.


	70. Surprise Visit

Aither’s POV  
Three weeks after Jon and Alec move into their new house she decides it's time to pay her best friend a visit. As such, she makes all the arrangements and asks Sparks if he wants to come along. It’s been a long while since he’s been back to Russia, but the chances of anyone bothering him are fairly small. He doesn’t look thrilled with the idea, but agrees because he wishes to meet Jon as well.

So early in the morning, they hop on a plane and are on their way to Moscow. All of her documents are in order. She situated them last year in December so that all she would have to do is put the dates in to print them. One beautiful thing about computers and her particular skill set, it means all of her documentation is done. She also made sure that all of Sparks’ documentation is up to date as well. That way he can travel freely between the two countries.

Actually, she tips her head to the side as she stares out the window, she should probably tell Alec that she used Aleksei as her contact within Russia for all the documentation. She can do that after they get there.

“Are you happy to be going back?” she asks as the plane touches down a few hours later.

“I’ll tell you after the visit,” he replies in Russian.

She had forgotten that English is his second language, but the complete lack of accent gives it away fast, quick, and in a hurry.

“Well,” she drawls, switching to Russian, a language she only learned because of Sparks. “That sounds like a plan.”

He laughs, drawing the attention of some of the other passengers.

When it’s time to disembark, she smirks at her boyfriend, some would say boy toy considering their relationship, before standing and stretching, drawing the eyes of most the men in the cab. Not an unusual occurrence and something she normally uses to her advantage. No one expects such a small and adorable looking woman to be dangerous, which is perfect according to her.

Getting off the plane, the customs agent does a double take, lips pinched together as her paperwork is demanded. Smiling sweetly, she hands it over, happy that she was smart enough to get everything previously arranged.

She knows the instant the agent recognizes the names on her paperwork because suddenly the man is trying to be polite and even respectful, not that she cares.

Sparks snickers quietly while his own customs agent clears him, double checking that everything is in order before waving him through.

“Dare I ask if you made driving arrangements?” he asks with a laugh, shaking his head.

“Of course! I know Jon’s cab driver’s number,” she snickers playfully.

Shaking his head, the tall fighter just laughs.

Sure enough, she calls Merkurii, turning on the charm while she talks with him. When the driver turns up ten minutes later, she easily tells him the address, watching the way recognition flashes across the man’s eyes. She doesn’t answer his unspoken question, instead studying the surrounding areas through the window as they drive. When they get to Jon’s house, she is out before he has a chance to say anything and hears Sparks sighing behind her.

Knocking lightly at the door, she bounces on the balls of her feet. She had napped on the jet, knowing that she was going to be in a completely different time zone. Not that she sleeps a lot. She’s a lot like Jon with that.

When the door swings open she smirks at the baffled teenager staring at her, one dark brow arching mischievously in question.

“Holy hell, how did you get here Aither?” her fellow hacker asks curiously, still staring.

“Oh you know, a plane, I brought a house warming gift once Sparks stops visiting with your driver, and it’s not Sparks, him I’m keeping.” She answers playfully.

Laughing, Jon gives her a surprising hug, before passing her to go say hello to the driver and fetch her second she’s assuming, she doesn’t go any further into the house than the front door. It’s bad manners to do so. They’re friends.

“Who are you?” a soft voice demands, almost a quiet snarl.

Turning, she finds herself coming face to face with Jon’s soulmate, Alec. Well Jon wasn’t exaggerating on how good looking the spy is. The scars are not as bad as they could be considering, and they add to the blonde’s features rather than taking away from them.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” she replies candidly. “I thought Jon might have blinders on, after all, the old saying is someone you care about will always be beautiful in your eyes, but he really wasn’t.”

Blue-green eyes narrow at her, assessing whether she is a threat or not, causing her mischievous nature to flare to the surface when she smirks back.

“Alec, Aither and Sparks,” Jon states as he comes through the door.

“I went no further than this, and not because your pet looks pissy either,” she informs her best friend in English, forgetting for a moment that the spy is both Russian and British.

“I am _no one's_ pet,” Alec snaps in English.

She doesn’t bother responding, because he will definitely be Jon’s pet before everything's said and done, there is nothing wrong with that.

“I don’t know why I am surprised when you did once tell me if I moved out of Valentin’s house you’d pay me a visit within two weeks.” Jon mutters, snicker as he shakes his head and moves to stand beside the spy.

“I don’t know why you're surprised either,” she agrees.

Glancing at Alec, Jon comments, “I’ll show you where the extra bedroom is upstairs.”

“Perfect,” she hums, taking the two bags from her boyfriend and motioning to her best friend to lead the way. She considers blowing Alec an air kiss but decides against it. “Our lovely Russians can get to know each other while you do so.”

“Which one of us did you use for your visa?” Jon asks when they get to the top of the stairs.

She’s slightly surprised they have an upstairs bedroom considering Jon doesn’t like upstairs bedrooms.

“Alec as Aleksei, of course, because no one wants to question someone with his reputation. It’s a beautiful thing,” she answers with a chuckle.

“You’re something else,” he tells her. “Spare room. Officially it’s supposed to be mine, but I tend to stay with Alec or in the library downstairs. I don’t like upstairs bedrooms.”

“You should probably tell him that. How did he miss it after staying in your room for six months?” she asks curiously. She’s fairly sure the spy doesn’t have brain damage but she could be wrong.

Jon just shrugs, “It’s not important. I only use this room for changing.”

“I feel like I need to have a word with him on your behalf,” she mutters, honestly thinking about it.

“It’s okay,” her best friend comments, “I don’t worry about it.”

“You shouldn’t have to think of it at all. Didn’t you say there is a bedroom on the ground floor?” she asks, recalling the floor plans that her fellow hacker had sent her.

“Yeah, it’s the one we share,” he responds distractedly, turning to ask, “Why’d you come?”

She blinks because there is something she can’t get a clear read on in her friend’s voice. “Brought you a house warming gift, and I promised I would.”

He nods slowly. An almost hesitant smile curving his lips.

“Seriously, I’ll have a word with him, and that’d be all fine, because you should be comfortable in your room and I know you aren’t up here.” Actually she might anyways, just because Alec needs to have a clear talk with Jon so they can have an understanding. This dating thing is confusing her best friend. “Sorry I’m two weeks late.”

“It’s okay, we were going to go to dinner tonight,” he replies, voice unsure as if he doesn’t know if the plans have changed.

“Then go! That’ll be perfect, I can have Sparks show me some of his favorite places, he has to have some.” She encourages him, “We’ve got time, if you are not against it, I want to stay the month before returning home.”

“Let me talk with Alec first, but I don’t know why that’d be a problem.” Her best friend agrees with a smile. “I really am happy you came.”

“Good, we can drive the world crazy together for a few weeks,” she hums. As they leave the room, she tells him softly, “You look healthy, and more importantly, happy. I’m happy for you.”

She’s well aware of her fellow hacker’s bouts of depression and anxiety, two feelings that Alec had made worse before the spy knew about the soulmarks. They worried her, and there had been several times she had considered getting on as plane to come here and be supportive in person. She’d also considered bitch slapping Valentin into next week on several occasions for how the doctor treated her best friend, even if it was mostly accidental.

When they get downstairs, it’s to find the two Russians in the kitchen, drinking vodka discussing them. Apparently they’re very frustrating sometimes. She shares a quick grins with Jon, mischief entering his gray-blue-amber eyes.

“We’re never trouble,” she informs the spy and fighter.

“Unless we want to be,” Jon finishes with a smirk.

“God protect us, there’s two of them,” Sparks mutters.

She just beams. This is going to be such a fun visit.


	71. Interest

Jon’s POV  
When he opened his front door he didn’t expect Aither to be standing on his stoop, mischief lighting her gray-blue eyes, lips curved in a playful smile. Beyond her he can see Sparks and Merkuru.  
  
The first hour of their visit goes in a whirl while they chat, Alec and Sparks are sharing vodka, discussing the sort of trouble they can be, making him smile to see his soulmate so relaxed, even if most of it is just for show and not a fact.  
  
“You two go out and have a good time, Sparks here can find us something to do I’m sure,” Aither tells them roughly two hours before dinner. “If we get back first, the only rooms we will go in are the room upstairs, the hall, bathroom, and this kitchen.”  
  
“Why should I believe you?” Alec asks, not surprising him since he knows his paranoid spy.  
  
She just smiles charmingly, “Hackers like us are territorial, I’m respecting Jon’s territory, the same way he’d respect mine if the situation is reversed.”  
  
He shrugs when Sansha glances at him questioningly. It’s a very good point, and part of why he isn’t worried. With anyone else there would be concern, but they are so very alike, and even if this is the first time they met in person, they know everything about each other. Probably more than their partners do.  
  
“We can stay in if you’d prefer,” he tells his soulmate softly, watching the older man’s face closely for tells, “I’d understand since we weren’t expecting company.”  
  
Alec’s blue-green eyes flicker between him and Aither. Aither's narrows her gray-blue eyes on Sansha thoughtfully.  
  
“She’ll stay out of our room. I put them in mine since I don’t really use it,” he tells his spy softly.  
  
“I had noticed that, you prefer the ground floor bedroom, but you never said anything when I asked if the upstairs room would work for your private room.” Sansha states softly, studying his face.  
  
He wants to look away, because he doesn’t want to talk about the fact he didn’t actually want a room, but he took the fact Alec wanted him to have one as a sign not to hope for too much too quickly. Although, he’s got a bedroom, Alec’s got a bedroom, and then they have the shared bedroom that he prefers.

“I like cuddling,” he replies, not actually remarking on the fact he prefers when they stay downstairs where he can listen to Sansha’s heartbeat and breathing. Now that he’s used to sleeping in the room with someone else, that’s what he’d prefer to do. He gets that they have their private rooms because sometimes they might need to get away, but he doesn’t understand why he can’t just use his little office area for his private area, and Alec can use his office for a private area. Why do they need extra bedrooms?  
  
“I did make reservations,” Alec muses thoughtfully, still studying him as if he is a code that needs cracked. Actually, codes aren’t his soulmate’s thing, like he’s a bomb whose elements the spy is trying to determine. That’s a better metaphor.  
  
“You did, and I made sure to have nothing going on,” he agrees with a slight nod. “She’s unexpected like a wildfire.”  
  
“Wildfire is exactly it,” Sansha mutters, and he’s moderately sure it’s not a compliment. “Let’s get ready then.”  
  
“Sounds good,” he agrees, hand coming up to brush sardonyx hair out of his soulmate’s face, a small smile curving his lips. “Thank you.”  
  
For a moment blue-green eyes narrow questioningly before understanding seems to dawn and the spy nods slowly.  “She’s been a good friend to you.”  
  
He nods slowly, “She has. She was all for coming before your arrival to straighten Valentin out. We’re both orphans in a sense. The family I knew is gone, and her family is dead.”  
  
That seems to surprise Alec, one blonde brow arches in question, “I hadn’t thought she’s an orphan. Not considering the gift she sent is rather costly.”  
  
Laughing, he comments, “We’re hackers, we make a lot more money than you’d expect. I shove mine into my trust, where it slowly builds interest and becomes more money, using part of it to fund the projects I have been doing. She shoves all of hers in tax shelter accounts, and keeps only a small portion to use, but we are both as rich, possibly richer, than you as Janus.”  
  
Alec blinks at him in shock.  
  
Leaning in, he kisses the older man on the cheek, before murmuring, “I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

He heads to the bedroom to grab some clothing before continuing to the attached bathroom. He’s not worried about if Aither needs the restroom, she knows where the other ones are, and he’s pretty certain that he’s not her physical type. Besides, they act like siblings.  
  
After he finishes, he is surprised to come downstairs and find Alec and Aither talking. Thankfully, it seems to be a pleasant topic, or one that is not going to annoy his soulmate.  
  
“Your friend suggested you learn knife fighting since you are on the slender side.” Alec tells him bluntly, “I think she has a good idea. We’re currently discussing who would have a better chance at teaching you.”  
  
“Aither,” he responds nearly instantly, not needing to think that through, “or Dayesi.”  
  
“Oh yes, the female spy you mentioned works with him, I hope I get a chance to meet her, and the other two.” Aither comments with mischief in her eyes.  
  
Tipping his head to the side, he thinks about it for a moment before suggesting, “How about dinner tomorrow? I can call Gregor and ask him to cook something, I don’t know if Stephanie is a cook or not. Only way I’m cooking is if we have breakfast for dinner.”  
  
“That’d work, invite Valentin,” his soulmate proposes, dark amusement filling the spy’s eyes.  
  
“Well, let me make a few calls to have everything arranged.” He offers, “Then we can get going and we’ll still be on time.”  
  
Alec just nods, turning his attention to their guests and asking where they are planning to go.  
  
Heading to the small office he has, he quickly makes a few phone calls to get everything set up. Exciting the cook because it is his first ‘house party’ and surprising his father with the invitation.

Oo-O-oO

Alec’s POV  
He’s edgy about having strangers in the house, but he trusts Jon, and Jon seems to trust them. At least, Vansha trust Aither. Still, he gets up in the middle of the night, not surprised to find the female hacker in the kitchen when he takes his and Jon’s mugs in there.  
  
“Sorry,” she tells him flashing an almost apologetic smile, “I don’t sleep a lot. Normally I spend that time speaking with Jon but I am hoping he’s getting some rest because I know how little he gets.”  
  
“He doesn’t sleep a lot either, normally three or four hours,” he replies with a nod of understanding. “I can show you where the library is, you just have to stay out of the desk.”  
  
Her lips quirk up in a mischievous smile, all hints of apology gone, “I know where it is from the blue prints. I just haven’t had permission to go in there. I know, a hacker wanting permission. I hack strangers and people who piss me off, Jon’s a friend, I won’t betray his territory.”  
  
“That’s the second time you’ve put it like that.” He remarks, arching a questioning brow at her.  
  
Shrugging, she tugs one of the knives out of her arm sheath. “My early years I had a family, it was my late teens when I ended up on the streets. My talents with these,” she holds the blade up, “and computers are the only reason I am not still on the street. I’ve dealt with gangs far too often. So I think of things in terms of territory. Most of the gangs and I have come to a bit of an agreement. I won’t make their lives miserable and they’ll leave me and mine alone.” Her eyes go hard, “Those who fail to respect that deal really don’t like the consequences. “  
  
He laughs hard, because she sounds a great deal like him. Maybe they can develop something of a friendship as well.  
  
“Get some rest,” he suggests, “I’m sure Dayesi will want to see how good you are with those. If you can’t rest, go ahead and use the library.”  
  
Chuckling, she nods once before tucking the blade away and walking out of the kitchen.

Oo-O-oO

Jon’s POV  
Alec’s guess that today would be busy ends up being completely correct. He spends the morning in the small gym that doesn’t have equipment yet sparring with Aither. She’s showing him the best tricks she’s found for knife fighting, and dealing with threats of all sizes. His years in acrobatics and gymnastics seem to be the only reason he’s able to dodge out of her way, watching the way her body telegraphs the moves before she does them. However, because of the gleam in her gray eyes, he’s fairly sure it’s on purpose, so he can learn what they are.  
  
Stephanie is surprised when she gets there to discover that they have company, and blushes some really interesting shades of red when Aither playfully flirts without heat behind it. It makes him curious about the housekeeper’s orientation, though he’s not asking because that is her business and not his.  
  
Gregor shows up three hours before dinner, smiling widely and borrowing Sparks to help empty the car because apparently the cook has decided he wants to do something big, all the power to Gregor. He appreciates the effort and plans on depositing a nice chunk of money in the older man’s account since Gregor will not actually take the money otherwise.  
  
The real revelation however, is when Dayesi, Lidiya, and Pyotr show up. There seems to be something between the three women almost from the time their hands touch in the handshakes. There’s a spark of interest, a flash of desire, something burning hot between them and he wonders how long it will be before it reaches the flash point and they do something about it. Knowing his best friend, it won’t be too long.


	72. Breaking Up

Aither’s POV  
The first time she laid eyes on them, she thought they were beautiful together.

Dayesi Vladimirovna Malinina moves like her, silently, deadly, dangerous, like a predator who knows that she’s a predator. She’s beautiful: smooth mocha skin, perfect plush cupid bow lips, black star sapphire eyes, raven feather black springy curls, and an aura of something that draws her in. It’s all packed in a tiny, slender, sleek frame that seems perfectly proportioned with an adorable button nose.

Lidiya Stepanova Raskova is quiet, serene, and has a grace she’s not used to seeing in a person that’s part of their world. Long wavy chocolate brown hair cascades around a serious face, warm brown – red garnet eyes, light cream colored skin that she just wants to touch and see if it’s as smooth as she thinks.

An assassin and a doctor, what a perfect contradiction: she wants them.

The biggest problem she can see, at this moment anyways, is the fact she is with Sparks. So she needs to speak with him about it. Tonight, she decides as she watches Jon sparring with Dayesi. Tonight she will speak with her long time friend and lover. See what he has to say on the situation. For now, well for now there is nothing wrong with a good flirt. Test the grounds so to speak, to see if her attentions will be welcome.

Heading over to join the fray, she is already starting to plot, and according to the understanding gleam in her best friend’s eyes, Jon knows it and is willing to help. Perfect.

Several hours later, long after everyone left she takes a hot bath, letting the water sooth her muscles as she continues the equations and figures out the code within her mind. She’s not surprised when Sparks slips in, long body nearly instantly sweating as the steam curls around him.

“It’d be fine,” he comments, closing the door and leaning against it.

“Oh?” she queries, not bothering to get up or cover her body. He’s seen her naked plenty of times. Hell, he’s undressed her plenty of times, for pleasure and to help her deal with an injury. There is no reason for her to feel concerned about this.

“You want them,” he responds, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I can understand. The smaller one reminds me of you. The taller one shies away. I don’t think she is comfortable with men.”

“Where does that leave us?” she asks curiously considering which of her two shampoos she wants to use in her long hair.

Chuckling, he crosses the small space to kneel beside the tub. Large hands swipe the berry scented bottle, squeezing a decent amount out before setting it back on the edge of the tub.

She sits up straight. Her head tipping back as his long fingers carefully work the soap in, starting at the bottom and working his way upwards. “It leaves us where we always are: friends first and foremost.” He replies eventually, fingers carding through her hair to massage her scale, making her hum in pleasure. “It’ll change nothing. I’ll find someone else to have sex with after a fight when the hormones are rushing. You’ll woo them and probably buy a jet so you can visit more often.”

She laughs merrily, eyes closing as he uses his hands to cup the water and pour it over her hair. “You’re an amazing man.”

It’s his turn to chuckle, a deep sound that sends warmth through her. Sadly, as of now she won’t be acting on that warmth.

“I’d say you’re the amazing one, Aither, I was running away when we met, yet you managed to pull me in anyways.” He states quietly, “You help people, even when you don’t have to. Just like your best friend. The two of you could rule the world if you want, and instead you’re stopping those who would for personal gain.” He presses his lips to her forehead, “I’ve been lucky to have you, but always knew that eventually you’d find someone better.”

Her eyes snap open and she retorts, “Not better, simply different.” Her smile turns playful as her wet hand leaves the tub to ghost over the side of his shirt, “Besides, you have marks, one of these days you’ll meet them.”

He looks almost sad as he replies, “Why would they want a street fighter who ran away from home to avoid a life of crime and still ended up in a life of crime?”

Tipping her head to the side so her inky hair falls across her shoulder, she answers, “Because you’re loyal, fiercely protective, gentle, deadly, caring, an attentive lover, and great with kids.”

He bursts out laughing, eyes crinkling as he shakes his head. “I’m not sure most people would consider deadly a good trait.”

“Then they’d be wrong,” she informs him seriously. “Being deadly is a wonderful thing when combined with protective and caring. It’s only when combined with a lack of empathy that it becomes a bit of a problem.”

“Okay,” he agrees, “Thank you.”

Curious, she switches to a kneeling position to turn the shower on while asking, “Why?”

“Because this coulda been a lot more awkward.” He responds with a shrug, “Most ‘break-ups’ aren’t this smooth.”

“That’s because they’re idiots,” she tells him seriously before turning mischievous again, “Besides, I should be thanking you. After all, you’re the jilted lover.”

Again he bursts out laughing, not thinking about it as he leans in and captures her lips in a gentle kiss that she firmly pushes away.

He nods in understanding, eyes still warm.

“Don’t expect it means you will get out of cuddle duty,” she remarks playfully. “I still want completely platonic cuddling on days that are stressful if they’re not around.”

“I can do that.” He agrees, “I’m going in the other room, because otherwise I might be tempted to try and convince you just one more time. It’ll take some adjusting.”

It’s her turn to nod in understanding, “Thank you, Sparks.”

“Always, Aither.” He promises sincerely, standing and leaving the bathroom.

She sighs as the door closes, turning the shower on and closing the sliding door in order to keep from making a bigger mess everywhere. That could have been so much worse, but she’s lucky, she has two best friends: Jon and Sparks. She’ll give Jon a copy of what Sparks’ marks look like. She knows her friend has been considering setting up a soulmate finding company using sketches of soulmarks so people don’t have to have pictures of their body on the internet. She’ll pay for her second best friend to be one of the first to use it, because he deserves to be happy.

Now she just has to figure out how to approach the ladies to see if they would be amenable to an arrangement and see where it goes from there.


	73. Preperations for Saturday

Jon’s POV  
Settling at his desk, he rubs his shoulder as he considers the fact he has a free moment right now. The last few weeks have been crazy with everything going on. Moving in with Alec was just the beginning of it. He also met more of his Russian family, had his relationship with Sansha evolve, and got kidnapped. Then his best friend showed up, the first time they have met in person. Though he’d known that Aither’s short, he hadn’t been prepared for exactly how short or feisty she turned out to be. Sometimes conversations via earwigs or online just don’t prepare a person for real life. 

Whenever he had a free moment in the last few weeks, he has been trying to figure out how to celebrate Alec’s birthday. Part of him is worried because it’s their first one together and he doesn’t want to drive home the fact there is a bit of an age difference between them. At the same time, he wants to mark the occasion in hopes that it’s the first of many pleasant birthdays together. Now the question is how to do it?

Since he’s not exactly sure what dating entails and how somebody should act about birthdays when dating, he goes with what he does know. Sort of anyways, based off things he’s discussed with Aither over the years. He’ll throw a bit of a birthday party for his Sansha. 

He pauses, a slow smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His Sansha. He’s still not used to the idea that Alec likes the diminutive version of his Russian name. He’s not used to the fact they are dating and it’s perfectly acceptable to use pet names and nicknames together. He can still remember how his parents had names for each other, spoken softly, with clear affection. Alec gets that same sort of smile he used to see on his da’s face when mum would murmur “my doctor”, a nickname he never quite understood and probably never would. 

Shaking his head, he returns to the present time. Now who to invite to said party and how to go about doing it? He’s not what anyone would call an accomplished cook. He’d figured out chips because Gregor’s had given a few suggestions on how to make them without burning them. Mostly though, he prefers cold stuff that doesn’t require cooking like sandwiches and sliced up fruit or vegetables, easy snack stuff. He also knows breakfast from years of cooking it with his mum. They’ve discussed hiring a cook,but they never went much further than that. He’ll see if Gregor can make the meal. 

Who all to invite? He’s certain about the people from the Christmas dinner with Alec’s team, but what about the second dinner with his father’s family? Technically they’re his family too, but he’s only talked with them a handful of times and seen them twice. Alec has only seen them the twice, at Christmas and that impromptu family gathering.

Well then, he better go over to his father’s house in order to speak with the cook and maybe have a conversation with Valentin, if the doctor is even home. 

Call first, he thinks, just to make sure that the cook’s there. Reaching for the phone, he quickly dials up the number, quite happy when the cook is the one who answers. 

“Hello Gregor, I was wondering if you have some time available?” He asks politely, “I have few things I’d like to speak with you about.” 

_’I do, I’m just making a few things for the fridge so Valik can grab and go,’_ the cook tells him. _’He’s home today. If you’d like to have lunch with him I can make something up.’_

Smiling at the request hidden in the offer, he agrees. “That’d be nice, I’ll be over about eleven am.”

 _’Perfect, I’ll have everything ready,’_ Gregor replies.

“See you then,” he tells the older man, barely waiting for a goodbye before hanging up to go find Alec and tell his soulmate that he is going to have lunch with his father.

Alec agrees readily enough, seeming almost happy about his choice. 

Humming, he goes back to his office to call Merkuru, only his normal cab driver is busy today so he ends up speaking with Ioann. While he’s not as comfortable with Merkuru’s brother, he goes with Ioann anyways. He could always take a walk and hail a cab, but really, his only problem with the brother is the fact he hasn’t really had a chance to speak with Ioann. 

Looking around his office, he snickers, because right now it is pretty bare. The desk has a spot for his laptop or a computer tower, and he has already set up a small work area in the corner for the ear pieces. He’ll have to get his tower sent here from the storage unit. Maybe it would be better if he ordered a new one instead. Later, he thinks, right now he‘s focusing on Alec’s birthday. Should he get his spy a gift? What sort of gift would be appropriate? 

He got his soulmate the weapon’s harness for Christmas and customized it. So what to do for a birthday? According to all those books in the library, his spy loves to read. Then he should definitely get a book or three. 

Leaving his office, he heads to the library area to carefully look over the bookshelves containing  their mixed collections. History and science seem to be favorites, particularly chemistry and physics for science, and war craft histories. So he will make it a point to go looking for several books on those topics. This year he will go with history, see what he can find that isn’t covered here. 

It’s a really good thing he has a decent memory, he thinks as he looks over the titles, considering writing them down but deciding to just remember them. 

A little bit before he’s due to leave for Valentin’s house he heads to their room to change clothes. It might be spring, but outside is still cooler than in the house. Once he is ready, he tracks Alec down again, finding his spy carefully manipulating what appears to be the makings of a bomb in their workshop.

When there is a moment where his spy isn’t touching it, he comments, “Don’t blow up the house while I’m gone.”

Laughing, Alec stands and crosses the room to stand in front of him. “Why would I want to blow the house up? I like this house.”

“Yes, well.” He shrugs, only half joking when he comments, “things happen.”

“Shush, with the exception of Arkhangelsk I have never had an explosion not go as planned.” His spy tells him with an almost wistful smile. 

He reaches up to run his knuckles lightly along the scarred side of his lovers face, “Stay safe please.”

Alec’s head turns, kissing his knuckles softly, “Always. Enjoy your meal with Valentin.”

He nods, stepping forward, hand slipping upwards into sardonyx hair as he presses their lips together softly for a moment before stepping back, hand falling to his side. “I’ll be home in plenty of time for dinner. Although,” he jokes, “it’s totally going to be more sandwiches if I’m making it.”

“We’ll order food,” his Sansha states, “I’m not in the mood for sandwiches.”

“Well what are you in the mood for?” He queries curiously, then offers, “ I can pick it up on my way home.” 

“Italian,” Alec replies, “Something meaty.”

He nods, “Then I will get us Italian on the way home. Ta.”

Snorting, his soulmate grumbles, “I almost forget you’re British then you say something like that.”

He just laughs, remarking, “Don’t forget Scottish as well.”

Chuckling, Alec returns to the table and the project his soulmate was working on.

“I have my earwig in, in case you end up changing your mind about dinner,” he tells the spy as he turns to leave. 

His soulmate’s sardonyx head tips downwards in acknowledgement, even more noticeable is the fact the older man’s shoulders seem to loosen up a bit. Ah yes, that anxiety that happens every time one of them leaves the house for a bit without the other. He’s actually surprised it isn’t worse, all things considered, though he is very happy that it isn’t. 

Heading upstairs, he is unsurprised to see the cab is already waiting for him when he reaches the door. 

The ride to his father’s house is silent, with Ioann studying him in the mirror while he acts like he doesn’t notice. Of course he does notice, it’s plain as sunlight to see. 

When he gets out of the car to pay the fee, he comments, “I’ll catch a cab from the shopping district when I’m ready to go home. Thanks for the ride.” 

“I don’t understand you,” Ioann remarks as he accepts the money. 

He shrugs, “What’s to understand? I don’t like driving, thus cabs make a great alternative for me.”

“Why not get a driver then?” the man asks.

“I don’t leave home enough to? At least, not normally. This has been a remarkably busy month.” He replies with a rueful smile, “Besides, cabs blend in a lot better than private cars.”

“That’s true,” Ioann muses, “But why us?”

“You’re brother offered and I accepted. It seemed like a wise choice to me,” he answers with another shrug. “He’s good to me, so I try to be good to him.”

“Oh,” the driver mutters. “That makes sense. You can call for me too, I just,” the older man shrugs as if he’s not sure what to say. 

Trying not to laugh, he replies, “I get it. Folks don’t normally use cabs so much.”

“Exactly,” Ioann agrees. 

He smiles a bit tightly at the driver before nodding and turning to go into the house. While he can understand the feeling, he would have been preferred to discuss it while on the way rather than once they reached his father’s house. Shrugging, he heads first to the kitchen to speak with Gregor before deciding that he should speak with Valentin first. After all, he needs to know how many people are going to be there before he can speak with the cook about food.

“Isha!” his father greets him warmly, using one of the variations of his Russian name he is still working on remembering. “I was very happy when Grishko mentioned that you wanted to have lunch.”

He nods, trying for a warm smile as he returns the greeting. “Good morning Valentin. I wanted to speak with you, so lunch seemed like a good idea.”

“Is something wrong?” the doctor asks, worry evident in his father’s voice. 

“Hmmm? Oh,” he shakes his head, “No. Aleksei’s birthday is in two days, I am going to have a sort of celebration dinner for him. I was wondering,” he pauses, trying to think of how to word it. “Well, I was wondering who all to invite?”

Valentine seems to understand what he is saying, or in this case not saying. “I don’t think our part of the family would be a very good idea at this time. After all, it’s only been a few weeks since the two of you actually discussed what you are and decided to see if it will work out between you. Maybe it would be best to stick with people you are both familiar with.”

He nods, relief flooding his system. So the people from the first Christmas celebration would do. Now on to the second question he had. “Can I borrow Gregor for the day to help make the food? I’m not what anyone would call a cook.”

“Of course!” his father immediately agrees, “Grishko is a wonderful cook.” A playful smile curves Valentin’s lips as he queries, “Have you considered hiring a cook?”

“Yeah, we discussed it, we just haven’t gotten around to it yet,” he answers with a chuckle. 

They spend the rest of lunch chatting about how Valentin’s triad and children are doing, with him inquiring after each in turn. After lunch he speaks with Gregor about helping him with the cooking in two days, to which the German happily agrees, promising that they will have the best feast that the older man can come up with on such short notice. 

Now how to get Alec out of the house for a little bit in the morning and early afternoon in order to pull off making the surprise? Does he want it to be a surprise? He should probably check with the others to make sure they can make it before he gets too excited. So he heads to the office in his father’s house to use the phone, happy he has their numbers memorized. 

Marie and Nadiya promise to be there and are excited. Apparently this is the first time anyone has celebrated his spy’s birthday. They even assure him that Pyotr will be there and on his best behavior, which happens to be something he hasn’t seen yet. Lidiya agrees with glee in her voice and tells him she’ll come up with something to get Alec out of the house for a bit so he can set up and get everything ready. Dayesi finds it amusing that he’s throwing a surprise party and promises she’ll be there if only to see the look on Alec’s face when he realizes the celebration is for him. That leaves Grandmama Vera to ask, and he’s not sure how. So he calls Dayesi back to ask her. Instead, the assassin tells him she’ll talk to Grandmama Vera and let him know what the old sniper says. 

Good. He thinks with satisfaction. That part of the planning is out of the way. Now on to the next part: getting the presents. Actually, he should see if Gregor wants him to pick up the groceries for tomorrow while he’s out shopping for Alec’s presents.

When he asks, the cook laughs heartily before answering. 

“I’ll buy the food and bring it with me in the morning,” Gregor tells him, voice amused, “Just to make sure it’s the best quality. You can leave money if you’d like or consider it a birthday present from me.”

“Are you sure?” he queries. That seems rather generous.

“Of course! You’ve been here almost two years. I’ve seen you happier the last few months since Aleksei entered your life than you were in the months prior. Though,” the older man voice fills with humor, “I am sure you would have preferred him not to enter your life all broken up. Maybe your other soulmate will be in one piece when you meet them.”

“Maybe, but maybe not, and I might break him myself,” he mutters, thinking of the way James hurt his Sansha by betraying Alec. 

“Ah, you know who it is already and it’s not a good match?” the older man queries. 

“There may have been outside circumstances and I will not make a judgment call on it until I know all the information I possibly can,” he replies calmly, pushing the anger away.

Nodding, Gregor agrees, “That is a wise course of action.”

It’s his turn to nod, a slight smile playing at the edge of his lips. “Yeah. Thank you, for everything.”

“Of course!” the cook agrees merrily, “Besides, I miss having someone to cook actual food for. Valik doesn’t eat a lot of food.”

He just laughs, that seems to be a common thing in his family cause neither did pops or dad.

Leaving the house, he heads to the shopping district where he used to often walk and got to know a lot of the street folks. Now where should he go to find some books for Alec? The antique store is a good possibility. There isn’t a book store nearby.  However there is a resale store which might also have some books for him to acquire.  Well, he’ll just have to go to all three. Worse case scenario is he doesn’t find anything and has to flag a cab to take him somewhere else in the city to see if he can find a few good books. That isn’t actually a bad idea anyways, just so he can learn more of the streets from being in them rather than just recalling them from the maps he studied. 

He hums softly to himself as he walks, keeping his eyes out and deftly avoiding a young pickpocket and his accomplice with a laugh. He doesn’t call them on it however, simply shakes his head and keeps on walking. He’ll speak with Ally about the kid, make sure she knows he’s around. 

Since the resale store is the closest, that’s the one he heads to first. He hasn’t actually been in here a lot so he doesn’t know what all he will find. The next hour is spent with him taking his time going through the place, carefully looking over the various items whether they are what he is after or not, just because sometimes the best gift ideas are unexpected. 

Sure enough, he finds something he will make a perfect gift for Christmas for Lidiya. It’s a small wooden figurine of a woman with the holding the rod of Asclepius. He can tuck it away for later. Maybe even a birthday instead. 

He continues his search, but none of the books at the resale store are the type he is looking for, so he makes his purchase and continues on to the antique store. 

Like the resale store, he spends a while looking around to see what all there is. He smiles when a teenager comes to ask if he needs any help and starts up a conversation about some of the pieces being sold. It actually makes it a bit more interesting. 

When he mentions he’s looking for books on history, science, or war craft, she gets all excited and shows him over to one of the corners he hadn’t been in yet where there is a large glass case packed full of books. His eyes light up because there is a very good chance he will find something in this mix. 

Another hour is spent going through the case until he has found several books that are perfect for his goal. Afterwards he pays for the books, has them gift wrapped for a little extra, and borrows a phone to call for a ride. 

This time he gets Merkuru, so he sits in the front with the older gentleman, visiting and catching up on interesting information during the ride. When he queries where a good Italian restaurant is, the driver knows just the place. One stop later they are on their way to his home. 

It’s been a very successful day, he thinks as he pays Merkuru. 

“I’m home Alec,” he calls out as he steps through the front door, sassily remarking, “Happy to see the house is still standing.”


	74. Celebrating Together

Jon’s POV  
He has no clue what Lidiya does in order to get Alec out of the house early Saturday morning with him grumbling that he might be a bit late getting back. He’s almost scared to ask actually. Women can be scarily effective when they want something done, anyone who says that females are weaker or less intelligent are a fool in his experience.

At exactly nine in the morning, Gregor shows up with a car full of groceries.

Aither comes stumbling down stairs while they are still putting everything in the kitchen.

“I realize you’re a morning person Jon, but why are you such an active one?” she grumbles before noticing that he’s not alone.

“First, I am _not_ a morning person until I have had at least one cup of strong tea. Second, I told you Gregor was coming over. It is not my fault you forgot while having a long night with Sparks.” He informs her, trying not to laugh at her expression.

“I wasn’t having the sort of long night you’re thinking, pervy-boy,” she retorts in English. “We were discussing where we are going with this relationship. Which is to say: we’re not. However as Sparks is my other closest friend, and the most helpful trouble maker for the things I don’t wanna deal with, well we are staying friends and not bothering to tell anyone else outside our small group.”

“Come help with slicing things up, you can put your knife skills to use,” he suggests as he heads to the kitchen, knowing she’ll follow. “So are you three giving it a go?”

“I plan to ask them,” she answers. Then, switching to Russian she introduces herself to the cook, “Hello, I’m Jon’s slightly crazy best friend Aither.”

Gregor throws back his head and laughs.

“I doubt you are crazy if you are friends with Ivan.” The older man states when he finally stops laughing.

“She really is crazy,” Sparks says from the doorway, “It’s part of her appeal.”

They share a quick glance and snicker. Of all the people who know his best friend, Sparks is the most qualified to say that.

“What can I do to help?” the large fighter asks.

“Finish emptying the car,” Gregor answers, tilting his head up to meet Sparks eyes.

“Will do,” the fighter agrees, turning to leave the kitchen.

“So does he realize he’s only wearing pants?” he asks curious after Sparks is gone.

“It’s not so much does he realize, as it is, does he care? And the answer is yes to the first, and no to the second,” Aither replies with a shrug.

“That explains a lot, he must be the crazy one then, it’s not warm enough for such little clothes. What will the neighbors say about his lack of dress?” Gregor mutters, shaking his head sadly.

“I’ll go tell him to get dressed then be back to dice whatever you want cut up.” She announces, leaving before he has a chance to say anything on the matter.

“They are together?” the cook asks, glancing at the door.

“Apparently not anymore, but they have been close for several years.” He responds, “I don’t see that changing, even with the change in their dynamic.”

The older man nods, setting to unpacking everything that was brought in onto his counters. He’s almost certain they won’t have enough room to work, so he has Sparks grab one of the folding tables out of the garage. He knew there was a reason he got them even though Alec thought they’d never need it.

The rest of the morning is spent in preparation for the dinner that evening. Gregor helps and teaches him and Aither as they work together. As soon as all the moving is done and the knives come out, he laughs at how quickly Sparks leaves. By the time lunch rolls around, they have all the ingredients ready to go and the stuff that needs to be in the oven already cooking.

“Did you know, traditionally it’s the birthday celebrant that cooks all the food here?” Gregor asks at one point while they are in the process of making the dough for bread.

“No,” Aither answers before he has a chance to. “Why?”

“It is tradition,” the cook answers seriously. “I thought maybe the reason you never celebrated your birthday was a lack of cooking ability at first.” Gregor continues, eyes flicking over to him. “But that wasn’t it, was it?”

“I didn’t know,” he replies softly, “And no, that’s not it.”

“That’s what I thought after Valik told me when your birthday is, and asked if I could make something you prefer since he’s not very skilled in the kitchen.” The older man remarks, eyes returning to the dough to judge whether it is ready for whatever comes next.

Aither glances at him speculatively, nodding once and almost scaring him because a plotting Aither is a lot like him plotting: something is definitely going to happen. It’s just a matter of what and when.

“Should I be scared?” he queries, amusement lacing his tone.

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’ sound, “I promised to behave during this trip, so I am.” She answers sweetly.

He starts laughing and has a hard time stopping because he’s pretty sure that the words ‘Aither’ and ‘behave’ have never belonged in the same sentence.

Gregor quickly gets them back on task, but smiles at how playful they seem to be.

Eventually they start with the rest of the food, and then it gets too busy to be playing around. Aither puts Sparks to work setting up the dining room by having the tall fighter fetch the other tables from the garage and setting them up against the wall before laying the sheet that was dug out of somewhere over them as a table cloth. Probably not the best one ever but whatever, it does the job. After that the fighter is used sort of as the mule, taking the food from the kitchen into the dining room in order to pile it on the table.

Just a little bit before dinner time, the phone rings. It nearly startles him because he was focused as he worked.

Passing his task off to his best friend, he goes to answer the phone, “Hello?”

“Is everything about ready? Lilya is running out of reasons to keep him here.” Dayesi demands, voice a bit frazzled. He didn’t realize there was anything that could shake the ex-KBG agent.

“Yeah, you can let him come home,” he replies, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

“Good,” she retorts, hanging up without saying anything else.

He just snickers, telling the others, “Alec’s on the way.”

“That’s fine,” Gregor announces, “We are nearly done.”

“Awesomeness,” Aither proclaims, “It’s been fun. I am never becoming a cook.”

The older man just laughs, commenting, “Some shouldn’t be. May I suggest hiring one, Ivan?”

“It’s in my planner.” He replies absently, then thinking of a possible solution, he asks, “If one of the street folks or orphans I work with want to learn how to cook would you be willing to teach them? Of course I’d pay you for that.”

“You don’t need to pay me any extra just like Sveta didn't needed extra for teaching that girl how to properly keep a house.” Gregor responds seriously, “I’d be happy to teach the craft. It is a very good skill if they are any good at learning.” The cook’s eyes go wide and he dramatically declares, “You, I’m afraid, are not!”

All of them start laughing, because it’s definitely a fact that neither hacker is any good with food beyond sandwiches and other stuff that doesn’t actually require cooking. Well, he can make breakfast foods, but he's not going to mention that right now, or the why he knows how.

The next little bit is spent with them joking as they get the kitchen cleaned up. Gregor is just leaving when Alec walks in the door, grumbling about how incompetent some people are and why did he hire them in the first place?

Stopping just before the stairs going up, his soulmate slowly pivots towards the door he’s currently occupying, blue green eyes narrowing. “You’re plotting something and enlisted your minions to help.”

He glances at Aither, whose slipped into the spot next to him, then both look at his soulmate with completely fake innocent looks.

“I’m not buying that,” his Sansha informs them, “I hate incompetence!”

“Would you cause mischief?” Aither queries in English.

“Never.” He replies with false seriousness. “You?”

“Always,” she answers mischievously, “But not this time, I was busy breaking up with Sparks.”

“It’s saddening,” Sparks says from behind them in a monotone.

Alec just stands there staring at them. His spy’s expression is almost questioning, like why me?

“Go change into something comfortable,” he suggests, leaving the door way to stand in front of his soulmate. “Dinner’s pretty much done, I just have to set the table.”

His Sansha’s eyes dart between him and the others, narrowing for just a moment as if deciding something. A moment later he finds himself being kissed quite soundly before Alec murmurs against his lips, “Okay.”

“Are you sure you’re asexual? Cause damn that’s hot,” Aither tells him after his soulmate has headed down the hall towards their room.

“Yes Aither, I’m still asexual.” He replies with a chuckle.

“Drats,” she exclaims, snapping her fingers, “I’ll go set the table, how many people?”

“Ten,” he answers, “I think.”

Chuckling, she heads into the kitchen and he hears her telling Sparks to get the dishes down which has him laughing because she’s shorter than their cupboards.

Heading towards their bedroom, he considers what he wants to say to his soulmate and his mind comes up blank. Hopefully he will think of something when he sees Alec.

When he enters their room, he finds his soulmate sitting on the edge of the bed. His Sansha’s posture is tired, almost defeated. The older man’s shoulders are curled inwards, arms braced on knees, back curved, and tawny head down.

Closing the door, he quickly crosses the room, stopping so he is almost touching his soulmate. “Alec?” he queries in Scottish Gaelic. “Are you okay?"

The older man’s head presses into his stomach as his spy answers, “I will be.”

His arms come up around Alec’s shoulders, rubbing soothing circles into his soulmate’s back.  “I can tell them to go away if you’d like?” he offers, hoping to cheer his spy up.

“Them?” Alec repeats, voice almost as tired as his posture. “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t talking about Aither and Sparks?”

“Because I’m not,” he replies smoothly, “Everyone from the first Christmas dinner, plus Aither and Sparks. I wanted to celebrate your birthday. You’re still alive despite downright depressing odds.” He presses a kiss to his Sansha’s temple, “Something I am thankful for.”

“That’s why Valentin’s cook was here,” his soulmate mumbles, amusement starting to creep into the spy’s tone.

“He has assured me I should hire a cook, he’ll even train one if I want, because even with instructions I damn near ruined dinner.” He snickers, “Aither is just as bad which makes me feel better.”

A small shake goes through his agent’s shoulders, and he just barely hears the strangled snicker.

“Sparks made sure to stay out of the way when Aither was wielding those knives to cut things up, I got a few very interesting lessons with how to use them today. And she kept at me to get them right.” He pauses, tipping his head thoughtfully, “That could have attributed to my horrible skills cooking.”

This time the laughter isn’t subdued, it’s a low rumble against his chest, softly filling the air and making him smile in relief.

“You don’t have to change if you don’t want to, I just know you prefer jeans to suits, though you look damn good in both,” he remarks seriously.

Sitting up, Alec glances at him curiously, querying, “You’re uninterested in sex but appreciate how I look?”

He rubs his neck as he thinks of how to explain it, this one was something his mum told him about, now to remember the conversation. “Most folks feel sexual and aesthetic appeal together, some folks only feel sexual appeal with people they care about, some never do but still find certain things aesthetically appealing.” He hesitates, almost stumbling over the words, “So far I’ve felt nothing on the sexual side of appeal, but I definitely appreciate your aesthetic appeal.”

“Jon,” Alec murmurs, hands coming up to cup his jaw, “It’s all right.”

He nods, actually knowing that, but it doesn’t make the fact he sometimes is a letdown any less hard to cope with.

Alec’s eyes lighten, a mischievous gleam coloring them. “Why don’t you sit down?”

He chuckles nodding and making a show of getting comfortable since he has a fairly good idea what his soulmate is planning. Sometimes the spy goes with what would be considered teasing to someone sexually active but he just finds it adorable instead. Sure enough he’s right and he gets to enjoy a rather blatant show as his Sansha undress, going all the way down to the tight pants beneath the layers of the suit. He gets to enjoy the way muscles move and affect the soulmarks as Alec decides on what to wear.

The rowan doesn’t seem to be quite as vibrant on his Sansha, he tries not to look into that anymore than he has too. Because he’s already aware he’s a second soulmate, even if Alec’s his first. He’s happy to see that the storm clouds seems to be less angry in coloring, or maybe less focused on since he knows there is still fury in his Sansha on the topic. He appreciates the view as dark jeans are pulled on, followed by a soft tee-shirt and dark jacket.

He smiles warmly when Alec offers him a hand, accepting and standing. Hopefully this goes better than expected.

Oo-O-oO

Alec’s POV  
Pulling in the driveway, he’s mildly startled to see Valentin’s cook leaving, the other man waves at him before driving away. It makes him wonder why Gregor, he’s pretty sure that’s the cook’s name, is here. Heading inside the first noticeable thing is exactly how much food he can smell, he makes it to the space next to the stairs when his senses tell him Jon’s in the doorway to the kitchen.

He’s muttering about incompetent people when he turns towards his younger soulmate, studying the mirthful green-gray eyes and the mischievous blue-gray eyes watching him.

“You’re plotting something and enlisted your minions to help,” he accuses the teenagers.

Jon and Aither glance at each other, and it’s like a silent conversation born of years of doing so passes between them despite the fact that just a little less than a month ago is when the pair first met. When they look back at him, their expression smooth out into something that’s supposed to be innocent but the mischief in their eyes gives them away.

“I’m not buying that,” he tells them, a feeling of dread slowly beginning to wash through him. “I hate incompetence!” he snaps, not wanting to show his unease.

Still playing innocent, she queries, “Would you cause mischief?” in English of his Rowan.

“Never,” Jon replies sweetly, lips twitching in the beginnings of a playful smirk, “You?”

“Always,” she retorts with a snicker, “But not this time, I was busy breaking up with Sparks.”

He glances at the tall man standing behind the pair as Sparks dutifully agrees, “It’s saddening.”

He’s not sure what he thinks about the exchange, it’s not anything like he has ever had to deal with from other people. In many ways it reminds him of his early years with James. Maybe she was breaking up with Sparks because she wants Jon. Would Jon want her back? So far his soulmate has remained firm on the concept of not caring or wanting sex, but maybe that’s to mask the fact he prefers women even though both soulmates are men? Could that be why his hacker is uninterested? Doesn’t actually like men?

Jon’s attention turns to him, smiling almost softly, the younger man suggests he goes and changes because dinner is nearly done. The younger man crosses the space between them while speaking, eyes meeting his and warm in a way he doesn’t quite believe.

Wanting to stake a claim on his Rowan, he kisses Jon until the younger man is breathless, before murmuring, “Okay,” against the hacker’s lips.

He’s not that far down the hall when he hears Aither asks if Jon really is asexual and his Vansha replying yes he is.

Maybe it’s not a matter of his soulmate preferring women, maybe the younger man really doesn’t feel that sort of desire.

In their bedroom though, doubts rush through him again, and he sits heavily on the edge of the bed.

He thought James gave a damn, that the missions where they slept with other people meant nothing, and look at where that got him. Dropped off a satellite wondering why his soulmate hated him. Hell, his first interaction with Jon he threatened the teen, of course, he thinks ruefully, his Vasha threatened him back the following morning. There is a core of steel in the teen which reminds him of himself when he was that age. What if he is making the wrong choice by wanting to keep Jon?

He’s still lost in a haze of fears and doubts when a familiar voice cuts through them, the Scottish Gaelic making his lips twitch as he almost smiles. He can feel the warmth coming off the smaller man, and leans into it, head pressing against a surprisingly firm chest hidden beneath loose fitting shirts.

Strong fingers knead his back, working on getting a knot out of his muscles absently as Jon asks, “I can tell them to go away if you’d like?”

“Them?” he repeats slowly, already trying to figure out who his Vansha would have invited over, and trying to figure out why. Maybe it’s a late housewarming party? Then possibly Valentin and family will be here. He’s not really in the mood to deal with them, particularly not Valentin with his nervous behavior.  “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t talking about Aither and Sparks?” he asks tiredly, not ready to deal with people.

“Because I’m not,” Jon replies softly, hands rubbing slow circles now rather than kneading the knots out of his back. “Everyone from the first Christmas dinner plus Aither and Sparks. I wanted to celebrate your birthday. You’re still alive despite downright depressing odds.” His Vansha lightly kisses his temple, “Something I am thankful for.”

“That’s why Valentin’s cook was here,” he mumbles, relief coursing through him. No wonder the two hackers looked like they were plotting, they were planning a bit of a surprise birthday dinner.

Amusement laces Jon’s voice as the teen remarks, “He has assured me I should hire a cook, he’ll even train one if I want, because even with instructions I damn near ruined dinner.” His Rowan snickers, “Aither is just as bad which makes me feel better.”

He bites back a laugh, because that’s rather funny. How bad a cook is Jon that even following instructions he nearly messed up? It’s good to know there is at least one thing the younger man doesn’t excel at.

“Sparks made sure to stay out of the way when Aither was wielding those knives to cut things up, I got a few very interesting lessons with how to use them today. And she kept at me to get them right.” His Vansha comments, pausing for a moment as if getting distracted by thought. “That could have attributed to my horrible skills cooking.”

This time he doesn’t bother stopping the laughter, his entire body shaking with mirth at Jon’s offended tone.

Quietly, his soulmate tells him he doesn’t have to change. Quickly explaining the logic behind the idea, and even blushing when they briefly discuss the difference between aesthetic and sexual attraction.

Jon finds him aesthetically appealing. He’s not sure if there is something wrong with his soulmate or not, but it makes him feel a bit better, even if he’s never going to say that aloud. It is often a fear of his that the teen will realize he’s no longer a good looking man because he’s has too many scars and decide to leave.

Although, his eyes flicker over his hacker, Jon’s afraid that he’ll want to leave because of the lack of sexual attraction. While it is a different sort of idea to him, he can still accept it as part of his Rowan.

Deciding to lighten the mood, because his Vansha cheered him up so he’d like to return the favor he suggests mischievously, “Why don’t you sit down?”

Chuckling, Jon nods and settles on the spot next to him, watching him with avid curiosity and just the hints of a playful smile.

He spends the next few minutes teasing the teenager, knowing that if Jon was like anyone else he’d ever met they would be very late to their own dinner party but because the hacker isn’t, he just gets a very appreciative looks. Green-gray eyes darken, a possessive heat filling his Vansha’s eyes.

Jon might not be interested in sex now, he thinks, but eventually he’s sure the teen will be. No one looks at someone else like that without wanting sex at some point in the relationship. Hopefully his body will be working right before they get to that stage.

Offering the younger man a hand up, he smiles as slender fingers wrap around his firmly, spreading warmth through his entire body in the simple pleasure that Jon’s _his_.


	75. Playful Time

Jon’s POV  
It’s only been a little over a month since his relationship with Alec changed from platonic to sensual. It’s still not sexual, but that’s fine by him. He’s actually happy that they are taking their time with sexual side of the their relationship. After all, he knows everything about Alec, but his spy doesn’t know nearly as much about him. Past that, he is intimately aware of every inch of Alec’s body from his time caring for his soulmate when Valentin first brought the agent home.

Glancing up from where he is working on his laptop, he takes a few minutes to study his soulmate’s profile, enjoying the view. He likes the fact Sansha has been allowing his sardonyx colored hair to grow out a bit and not using the product to keep it slicked back. Likes the way Sansha’s green blue eyes gleam as they focus, intelligence shimmering in them as the older man works.

When Alec glances up, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips and he internally smirks at the reaction that it causes. Almost immediately Sansha puts his pen down and pushes away from desk to stand up.

He stretches in place, watching the way the agent’s eyes follow the motion.

“Getting what you want done?” he inquiries, tipping his head and closing his laptop.

“Nearly,” Alec replies, eyes still roaming over him.

“Want to take break?” he asks as he stands, stretching some more as he does so.

Those beautiful eyes darken, something not quite lust entering them as the hints of a smile play at the edge of his soulmate’s lips.

"Come get me, Sashenka, if you think you can," he remarks with a playful smile, one hand going to his hip and eyes dancing in mirth.

Alec smirks in response, a bit of his more predatory nature showing in the slow movements as he crosses the floor. "Is that a challenge Vanyushka?"

"Of course," he answers merrily and bolts, delighting in the chase as he takes off.

He laughs in joy as he darts through the house, listening for Alec’s far quieter movements behind him.

Where to head? He wonders, he could go to his private room within the house, Sansha’s room, or their shared room. Does he want this to end on a playful note or a sensual? Actually, if he is being honest, it doesn’t matter what room they end up in. One of the most enjoyable afternoons since the relationship had started to shift from platonic to sensual had been spent in the solarium.

>>He had been sprawled on a thick, comfortable carpet, enjoying the sunlight and reading on his laptop when Alec joined him, setting a tray down, so he closed his laptop and pushing it away.

“Would you like some?” The older man had asked, motioning to the tray with fruits, meat bites, crackers, and cheeses.

Rolling on his side, he had nodded, a smile playing at the edge of his lips. “Yes,” he answered, voice rougher than normal. It excites him and nearly overwhelms him on the rare occasions Alec was the one to initiate contact between them. As a rule, anything outside cuddling at night is started by him. Even the cuddling at night could have been considered started by him since he had spent several months before Alec discovered they were soulmates cuddling with the agent because he realized Sansha slept better when they did so.

Picking a piece of cheese up, the older man had offered it to him, carefully holding it with just the barest grasp.

He had accepted the cheese with a soft smile, delight to see the more relaxed side of his soulmate. <<

Shaking his head, he pulls his mind out of the memory to decide what the goal for the day is. He can hear Alec, which means his soulmate wants him to, because he knows exactly how quiet the taller man can be when he wishes to be.

Actually, he’ll head to his room, the one he has for changing clothes and not much else since he tends to stay with Sansha more often than not downstairs in the shared room. He can understand why Alec likes having him easily in sight or reach, particularly after all the time he spent going through the spy’s history. It probably doesn’t help that the other member of their triad was the one who tried killing Alec, inadvertently giving the spy to him.

As soon as he has a target in place, he changes paces, putting the fact he took gymnastics for a few years to work for him. One moment he is trotting up the steps, the next he is using the stairwell as a springboard, and laughing as he manages the jump with no issues.

He hears the way Alec’s breath catches, and the taller man’s feet pound the floor as the agent runs up the steps.

No, there is something wrong, he realizes, that’s not the normal way Sansha sounds. That’s how he sounds when he is on the edge of panic. Stopping, he turns towards the steps, fully ready to do the reverse to get to Alec sooner. Only he doesn’t have to, because his soulmate is quite quick and agile for someone so big.

“Alec?” he murmurs as the taller man skids to a stop right in front of him, eyes searching his, something burning in those blue-green depths that worries him.

Not his room, Alec’s, he decides in a flash, carefully reaching for the older man’s hand. He is startled when he discovers that his soulmate is trembling. Why is Alec trembling?

“It’s alright,” he states, trying for reassuring and sure he is failing.

Sansha says nothing, only swallows hard as the older man studies him.

Quietly, he leads them to the spy’s room, pushing the door open with a quick glance at the same time. He’ll probably never mention to Alec that he is going to be rigging the entire house to be as secure as he can make it. Once in the room, he takes them directly to the bed, not for sex or anything of that nature but because there is more space for cuddling and he has a feeling a good cuddle is needed.

Alec is being too quiet, he thinks, not the normal sort of thinking quiet either. Instead it is almost as if the older man is in a silent panic. Why would his soulmate be panicking?

Settling on the bed, he tugs the taller man down beside  him, repeating, “Alec?”

When his soulmate doesn’t respond, he lightly wraps his arms around Sansha’s torso, laying his head against the taller man’s shoulder and rubbing his face lightly against Alec’s shirt.

“I don’t know what’s wrong if you don’t say,” he murmurs in Scottish Gaelic.

Still Alec doesn’t talk, body still slightly trembling, though the tall man’s arms hesitantly wrap around him.

He snuggles into his soulmate’s grasp, determined to figure out what the problem is. Since his Sansha can’t seem to form the words, he’ll figure it out another way. Slowly he maneuvers them to being all the way on the bed, pressed together from ankle to shoulder, backs against the pile of pillows he is happy Alec doesn’t mind since he likes a lot of pillow. His mind quickly processes everything that has happened in the last few minutes, from the light flirting in the office to the trip through the house to Alec catching him near the doors.

Everything was fine until he used the railing to spring upwards. Since he knows Alec has done the opposite when he really shouldn’t have in order to see if he still could while going through his therapy, it can’t be that Alec is mad over that. So it has to be something else related to that motion. What could it be?

Wait, Alec’s expression, the panic and concern and fear all lurking in those beautiful, if haunted, eyes.

Oh. _Oh._

“Alec-love, I’m sorry,” he states clearly, hands rubbing small circles along his soulmate’s sides and back.

Sansha freezes in place, clearly processing and in shock. Green-blue eyes lock with his and study him in near confusion.

“Why?” the older man eventually rasps, arms tightening ever so slightly.

“I did not mean to scare you. I just realized what that sort of motion could imply when really nothing of that nature was intended, I just wanted to see if I still had the muscle memory to do it.” He answers honestly. Whenever possible he answers as honestly as he can because he doesn’t want to lie to his soulmate.

Several minutes are spent in quiet as both process what had just happened. He’s sure that Alec is thinking the worst. He’s equally sure that trying to convince the taller man of something other than what he is thinking probably won’t work well. So he sticks with comforting, being there as his Sansha needs.

It’s not very surprising when Alec’s grip changes and the spy slides slightly down the bed, making him the taller one.

He nuzzles the side-top of his soulmate’s head, enjoying the soft wavy hair as it brushes against his skin. This is actually fairly common between them. Whenever something was being overwhelming, whether it is memories or thoughts, he would wrap himself around the taller man. Hands lightly skimming over clothes or flesh, nothing sexual in nature about how he would pet and caress the tall man. He offers comfort, however it was needed, acceptance, affection.

One of his hands comes up to card through Alec’s hair, softly rubbing the scalp as he does so. He listens carefully to the sound of his soulmate’s breathing, relaxing into the bed and continuing to give Sansha the affection he clearly needs. One day he will ask why certain things set the spy off the way they do, but it’s not going to be now. Actually it will be a long time later, after he has had time to research on his own.

“You were either going to fall,” Alec eventually mutters, sounding embarrassed over his words, “Or wanted to get away in truth.”

Pressing his lips to Alec’s hair, he answers emphatically, “No. I did not want to get away in truth, just enough to figure out which way to head.” He turns his tone playful once more as he continues, “For a man just getting out of needing physical therapy you can be very fast.”

He feels more than sees the slight twitch of lips against the thin material of his shirt.

“I’m not joking,” he comments in the same playful tone, “You’re almost faster than me,” his tone turns mock serious, “which I do not appreciate I’ll have you know,” only he ruins it with a dry huff of laughter.

A slight tremble goes through Alec again, only this time it’s not concern or fear, it’s laughter that the bigger man is trying to hold back. Now that just won’t do.

“I mean, one would think you are intentionally quiet and sneaky,” he suggests, trying to bite back his own laughter, and to get back to his mock offended tone which is failing. “However do you do it?”

This time the laughter is a bit louder, though still muffled against his side.

He nuzzles the top of his soulmate’s head, smiling against the smooth hair and commenting, “Were you a cat in a different life? That’s it, isn’t it!”

Apparently it’s too much because that quiet laughter bubbles forth, warm and low, making pleasure dance through his veins that he was able to cheer Alec up.

He doesn’t feel the urge to keep talking, simply relax together.


	76. 19th Birthday

Jon’s POV  
“Keep your birthday open,” Alec whispers in his ear, nibbling lightly down the side of his neck before sitting up.

Yawning, he stretches lazily, comfortable where he is in the cocoon of blankets. Despite the fact he is sleeping more, it’s still a rare thing for his soulmate to be up before him. “Why?” he mumbles curiously.

“I’ve got a plan, Vansha,” his spy replies, reminding him of a morning they had a few months before where the conversation was very similar.

He hums in agreement, “I was planning on ignoring it like I have the last two years.”

A sharp knock at the door draws both of their attention, Ottar calls out, “Sirs?”

“What time is it?” he asks as he sits up, rolling his shoulders and stretching his back, reaching for his glasses and finding the spot empty.

“Just before seven,” Alec answers, leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips before slipping his glasses on his face with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Sansha,” he murmurs, smiling back at his soulmate. They had a rather active night with Alec spending hours trying to figure his body out in the most pleasurable ways. The reality he doesn’t get aroused very often still surprises his soulmate despite the fact Alec accepted it early on as normal for him. “So why are we paying attention to my birthday?”

His soulmate replies, “Because nobody has the last few years, and I want to,” as he saunters to the door wearing nothing but his pajama bottoms.

It makes him smile, because he can remember when his spy would have grabbed something to cover his body, self-conscious of the scars that mar his skin and give texture to the rowan soulmark.

“I have tea and coffee as requested for mornings, breakfast is cooking,” their newest housekeeper and part time cook informs them. 

“Thank you Ottar,” he calls over.

A moment later the door is closed as his spy brings one thermos and one large mug over for them. 

“He’s got the right idea with a large thermos full of coffee.” Alec remarks opening it and taking a long drink. 

Snickering, he just smiles, accepting his mug and drinking most in one go before setting it aside in order to get up. First thing he does upon standing is hug his spy, and kiss his soulmate softly on the lips. “I’ll keep Thursday empty. I already told Dmitri and team I wouldn’t be in just to avoid any birthday surprise parties they might want to throw. Hopefully they don’t throw one the day before or after.”

Nuzzling his ear, his Sansha promises, “I’ll make sure they don’t.”

He smiles, leaning into the contact and just relaxing. It’s Monday, his birthday is Thursday he only has to make it four days and this entire mess can be forgotten for another year. He probably shouldn’t feel that way, but it’s the time of year he feels his parents’ deaths the hardest. He’s already found himself thinking about them more in the last week or so then he has in the last year. Side effect of them not actually having anything major going on since Alec’s nearly recovered and the Janus Network is still being changed over from crime syndicate to mercenary company. 

He has this entire week planned out, well, close to planned out. Today he’s going to check on the shelter before coming home to do some coding. Tomorrow he’s going to check on the repairs being done to the different tenant buildings before coming home to code. Wednesday he promised Valentin lunch, although he’ll see if it happens or not. He already planned on staying home and maybe breaking into someone’s system for the giggles of it on his birthday. So he has no problem with changing that plan to do something with Alec. Friday really depends on how Thursday goes, and this weekend he’s got a job breaking two different security systems for a company trying to decide which one is better. They’ll probably both prove to be boring for him but a challenge for a less talented hacker.

He’s even thankful when the week goes as planned, though he is surprised by the fact he actually has lunch with Valentin. He was sure his father would cancel at the last moment. That has happened far too often for him to have faith it won’t happen again. 

Wednesday night before his soulmate gets back from the meeting with his second and third, he hops online and finds someone with a flashy defense system to tear apart. It’s been a few weeks since he tore someone’s system apart for no more reason than he could. 

Alec get’s back just before one am, a satisfied smirk curving his soulmate’s lips. 

“Success at whatever trouble you’re planning?” he queries with a tilt of his head to watch the older man take off his outerwear and pull the massage stuff out of the drawer. 

“Yes, success at the trouble we’re planning. We got our first contract. Dayesi’s running point, we tossed around an idea that I both think would work best and worry about,” his soulmate answers. “Why don’t you wrap up whoever’s day you’re making harder and join me in a shower?”

He likes that idea, it means he’ll get a chance to wash Alec’s hair probably and he loves doing that. So he quickly sets an alarm for himself in case they notice his hack, hides the evidence that he was there by erasing his way into the server so it looks like someone in their network did it, and shuts everything down. Just as he closes the laptop a quick message from Aither pops up.

—Enjoy your birthday with your spy!—

That has him shaking his head and chuckling at his best friend.

Considering his Sansha laid out the massage stuff he doesn’t bother grabbing a change of clothing to wear or pajamas. If they’re needed afterwards, well, it’s not that hard to roll out of bed and grab some. Otherwise he’ll just cuddle with his furnace of a soulmate. 

At just shy of a year, he still hasn’t gotten aroused all that often. He can actually count on one hand all of the times he’s had any sort of physical reaction, but Alec’s reaction on each reaction was endearing. Mostly because his soulmate hadn’t made a big deal out of it and just continued on with what he was doing on each occasion. Although after things had faded away and they’d taken a nap, they had discussed what may or may not have caused that reaction. 

There have been a few times when his Sansha looks upset about that fact but it always passes and has not required a lot of discussion on the matter. He’s pretty sure they have discussed the fact Alec hasn’t gotten fully hard since the nearly dying more, mostly for him to reassure his soulmate that it’s alright, things will happen when they happen. He’s quite sure of that, partly because there have been a few times they’ve been sleeping and he’s woken up because of things being harder than they were before falling asleep. 

In the steam filled bathroom, he quickly undresses, dropping his clothes in the laundry basket before joining his soulmate in the shower. 

“That new?” he queries, noticing it’s not the normal scent. 

“Sort of, it’s based off the one you buy at the store, only I had a perfumer make it.” Alec replies, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “Raskova assured me that he only makes the best products.”

He nods slowly, smiling back, and noticing the slight hesitation. 

“The other stuff was bothering your skin and you didn’t want to mention it,” he realizes, voice soft as he steps right in front of the bigger man. It’s probably a good thing he’s on the slender side, means they fit better in the shower, although they have discussed having it replaced with a slightly bigger one on a couple of occasions.

Of course his Sansha doesn’t respond to that, one thing’s for sure, his soulmate is really good at not saying something if he perceives it as a weakness. He doesn’t know if Alec thinks he will leave or if there is some other reason, he just knows he noticed the habit. 

“I like the scent,” he comments, expression turning mischievous as he nibbles on the closest shoulder, a sure fire way to distract his spy.

Blue green eyes narrow at him right before he finds himself pressed against a wall and being kissed thoroughly. 

Almost dreamily he murmurs, “Hello.”

Alec stares at him for a long moment before his soulmate drops his head on his shoulder and proceeds to laugh. Long, hard, body shaking laughter. 

It’s quite nice actually. 

His hands come up to lazily explore his Sansha’s back and shoulders, enjoying the way the muscles move with every breath taken. He’s still smiling, just relaxing in the water when the laughter finally fades and they just stand there, pressed together in the hot water. 

“You were going to tell me about the idea?” he asks softly, just enjoying the closeness.

It takes his spy a few minutes to decide whether to answer or not or just relaxing with him, he’s not sure, before Alec states, “Dayesi and I discussed asking you to run some of the missions, the way MI6 occasionally runs missions to avoid difficulties.” 

It’s his turn to think about it, “I’d use better ear pieces, actually designed some and sent Aither a set. We’ve only had a chance to use them once but they pick up really well.”

“Why’d you design ear pieces?” his Sansha queries curious, looking at him speculatively.

“Well,” he hems, “You’re still a spy, even if you’re not working for any particular government, I figured eventually you’d get bored and I don’t like any of the ones on the market.” Shrugging he concludes, “I made my own. You’ve seen my sketch book.”

Cupping his face, his soulmate kisses him softly, “Of course you have,” Alec murmurs, “I bet they worked better than planned.”

“Actually the sound wasn’t as clear as I wanted, that’s okay however, because I have a few ideas how to fix it.” He replies, “You tell me when a set’s needed and I’ll have a set waiting for you. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” his spy declares, kissing him again.

He really does like the kissing, not always, because sometimes he just prefers a good cuddle, but he’s quite sure he lucked out with a soulmate who knows how to kiss and more importantly seems to be good at reading _when_ to kiss. 

“Nothing work related from either of us for the next twenty-four hours,” Alec suggests. “However feel free to tell me about anybody’s day you might have ruined for the fun of it.” His soulmate nuzzles along the edge of his jaw, “I like the way your eyes light up in pleasure.”

Chuckling, he tips his head to the side, humming in agreement. 

Several minutes are spent with his spy just touching and teasing, hands and mouth never leaving his skin. It’s nice, feeling like he’s the center of his soulmate’s world, at least for a few minutes. A part of him understands that Alec’s still not used to this, still thinks he’ll just walk out, leave, or tell him to leave. He get’s that. He really does. Particularly since on days he’s too much in his head he feels the same way. 

Eventually, the sardonyx blonde nips at his hip reaching past him to grab the flannel and soap before slowly straightening back up. Slowly the flannel is run along his shoulders and arms, across his torso. Every single piece of him is washed with sure touches, affection behind each move. 

“Mind if I wash your hair?” Alec queries, breath almost cool compared to the air around them as it fans over his ear. 

“Only if I can wash yours after,” he replies with a smirk.

“Deal,” his soulmate agrees with a smirk of his own, making him fairly sure that was always the plan. He likes that plan. 

Alec takes his time washing his hair before carefully shifting how they are standing and encouraging him tip his hair back to rinse the dark curls.

Once done with him, it’s his turn to take his time washing his soulmate, enjoying the simple intimacy of being able to just touch each other. He doesn’t mind the lack of sex. Honestly, it’s nice to know they can just spend time touching without any other pressures or purpose. Of course, he’s well aware his Sansha doesn’t necessarily feel the same. That Alec feels like he’s failing or worthless or not as much a man.

He wishes his da was still here or his mum. His dad would have knocked him flat on his arse for that sort of thinking, and then proceeded to explain why it was harmful. Chances are his spy and dad would have gotten along great once they got past that point. His mum would have taken a different approach to the situation, instead asking if all those traits in him were a sign of weakness or lack of worth. So far his soulmate has insisted they’re not because they are a part of who he’s always been. Mum never was on for someone applying standards to themselves that they never would to others. Pops would just offer him something cold and strong to drink, conversationally discussing how hardheaded his triad is at the best of times. 

Only that’ll never happen. It’s his nineteenth birthday. He lives with his soulmate and his family, the people who raised him and loved him, the people who encouraged and supported him are gone. Probably dead, because the mark on Valentin’s skin is now a tattoo even if he’s not supposed to know that and he knows as long as mum was alive it was a real soulmark.

Suddenly it’s hard to breathe as it all comes crashing down. Why didn’t it hurt this bad last year? He wonders as he gasps, chest heaving because he’s not getting enough oxygen. 

He’s only vaguely aware of the water shutting off or the massive warm towel wrapping around him. He’s barely able to make out Alec’s features, tries focusing on them before he realizes his glasses are off from when they were in the shower together. When did they leave the shower? He wonders, closing his eyes tightly and pressing his forehead into the warm shoulder closest to him. 

The next time he is actually aware of something besides the pain in his temples and the overwhelming grief, he’s curled up on the bed with Alec wrapped firmly around him. Long fingers stroke soothingly over his skin, bodies touching from foot to shoulder. His soulmate’s murmuring,  cycling through the languages they use regularly, his attempt at comforting though odd just as endearing as the not making a big deal out of the times he gets aroused. He doesn’t actually know whose world to burn down, but he’s moderately sure Alec would burn the entire world down to make him smile. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into warm skin. 

“Don’t be,” his Sansha replies softly, “You have no reason to be sorry.”

“I ruined your plans,” he replies a bit hopelessly. He’s good at ruining other people's’ plans. Is that why they don’t stay?

“So?” Alec nearly growls in his ear, tugging on it with his teeth to make sure he’s focused, and drawing a snort from him before continuing to speak. “Today’s about making sure you have a good day. Any plans are for that purpose and can be changed at a moment’s notice if it will make you smile.” 

He snuggles in closer. Closing his eyes and simply relaxing into being held. “I like this,” he whispers, “Us, like this. Just here.” 

“Then that’s what we’ll do until you’re ready to do something else. I think though,” his soulmate nuzzles along his neck and shoulder, “that you need a full night’s sleep.”

“Those are hard,” he mutters. “My brain doesn’t like to shut down.”

“Then I just need to think of a creative way to make it quiet for a bit.” Alec muses, fingers still stroking his skin. 

He’s startled when the taller man reaches past him to grab the massage oil. Then, without separating them, his soulmate drizzles some across his chest before dropping the recapped oil on the bed beside him. Instead of just stroking his skin, he gets the oil rubbed in using small circles that are just about hypnotic.

He focuses on the way Alec’s body feels along his. His Sansha is all warm and solid, comfortingly familiar after months of sleeping side by side. Even if he only slept a fraction of the time because every noise and movement would wake him up.  He focuses on the way his soulmate’s hands feel, the soothing patterns, the familiar calluses that tell a story. He focuses on the way his Sansha sounds, the steady breathing and strong heartbeat. He just focuses on Alec. 

Slowly, he finds himself drifting to sleep, with nothing more in his mind than the fact Alec is there: _Alec stayed._

When he next wakes up, he knows several hours have passed. He has a hard time determining how long it is because he can’t see the clock. When he gropes for his glasses they aren’t where they should be. 

“One sec,” his soulmate murmurs, voice sleep rough.

“Okay,” he agrees, pulling his arm back under the warm blanket. 

Alec scoots away for a moment, leaving a small gap between them and letting some of the cold air in. Seconds later Sansha’s pressed along his back, carefully slipping the glasses on his face with a gentle kiss to his shoulder. 

“I grabbed them last night when we came in here, I just forgot to put them on your side of the bed.” His Sansha explains quietly, “I knew you’d need them in the morning, my little near-sighted hacker.”

He chuckles, snuggling back into the warmth of his soulmate’s body, but tipping his head to actually look at the clock as well, “I slept longer than I expected.”

“You needed the sleep,” Alec remarks, absently rubbing circles in his skin again. 

“Probably,” he agrees. He’s never been a big sleeper, but it’s been hard adapting to sleeping with someone else around, even if it’s even harder on his own now.

“Today’s plan?” he asks curiously, almost wary because he feels like he has made some sort of mistake and can’t figure out what it is.

He can feel the smile against his shoulder as his spy starts outlining the plan, “Cuddle for as long as you’d like. Then I am making breakfast, and we’re going to eat it in the solarium or in the living room in front of a fire, whichever you prefer. After whatever meal we manage to get up for, I was thinking I could read to you.” 

Alec’s tone turns mischievous, “I’m sure you have something you’ve wanted to hear me read. I remember that you like hearing me read.”  His soulmate nuzzles him behind his ear, hot breath fanning over it as he speaks, “Then we’ll order whatever you’re feeling like for dinner, or I’ll make it, I’m in show-off-I-can-cook mode you might notice,” his spy jokes, “of course cooking for me normally involves bombs and other people, but not this time.”  

He chuckles, asking dryly, “And after dinner?”

“Hot relaxing bath, rinse off shower, full body massage, more cuddles.” Snickering, his soulmate proclaims, “I’m going to cuddle you out.”

“Some reason I don’t think so.” He replies with a smile. “I like that plan. It’s a nice plan. You don’t like cuddling that much.” He points out the only flaw in the plan that he can see. 

“I like cuddling,” Alec denies, “I’m just not used to having all this time to cuddle. Or someone who wants to for that matter.”

“I love cuddling,” he mumbles, almost drifting back to sleep. “I just feel like I am bothering you with all the cuddling and wanting more.” 

Alec carefully rolls him over so they are nose to nose, hands cupping his face. “You ever want to cuddle, as long as I am not in the field, I’ll cuddle with you. You just want to work side by side so we can just touch each other whenever, I’ll do that too.” His Sansha’s voice is serious, earnest, and there is something else he doesn’t dare put a name to in it. “I _enjoy_ the fact you like touching me, it surprises me _every time_ how much it seems to make you happy. That makes me happy.”

He blinks, startled because he’s pretty sure his soulmate is rarely this forthright about his emotions. “ _Sansha_.”  He whispers, trying to put everything into just the name that he’s scared to say outright. 

The way his spy’s eyes crinkle and lips curl upwards in a warm, satisfied smile makes him happy. 

He bites his lower lip, eyes flicking between Alec’s eyes and lips, wondering if kissing is appropriate in this moment. He really wants to kiss his soulmate. 

“It’s _always a_ good time,” his spy informs him, amusement filling his tone. “I am _all_ for the kissing. All the many different types of kissing you can come up with.” 

He laughs softly, nuzzling his nose against his soulmates as he does so. When the laughter finally fades, he admits, “I know a lot of people see kissing as a sort of foreplay. But,” he shrugs, not sure if he should say it or not. 

“Well,” Alec rubs their noses together softly, “I might have agreed with them prior to meeting you, however,” presses a feathery soft kiss against his lips, “I’m good with just kissing to kiss.” 

Grinning, he shoves the bigger man backwards on his back, straddling his soulmate’s hips and bracing himself against a firm chest. “Good.” He declares before leaning in to kiss his Sansha long and soft.

He likes the plan for the day. He’ll just have to make sure to make Alec’s birthday just as special when it rolls around in the spring. For now, he’s going to enjoy all the cuddling and try not to think of the people he’s lost. There’s a time for that and he’s pretty sure it’s not now it.

“Jon,” his soulmate murmurs in his ear.

“Hmmm?” he hums, scattering soft kisses across skin just to taste his almost lover. He likes the salty tang and unique scent that just says _Alec_ to him.

“Grieve if you need to, I have firsthand experience in avoiding it until something goes wrong,” his Sansha tells him. “If that’s what you need today, cuddles and time to grieve, then that’s what we’ll do.” 

“You’re amazing,” he tells his soulmate, kissing him again on the lips, “My Alec.” 

His spy smirks against his lips, and a moment later they are flipped, “Yes, _yours_ , my Jon.”


	77. Distractions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Note:** Jon's birthday is in October, James and Alec's birthdays are in April

Jon’s POV  
For the last few days Alec has been acting moody, like something is wrong, but every time he has tried to broach the subject to figure out what it is, his Sansha has clammed up or changed the topic. So he did what he does best: research. It had taken him less than five minutes to realize what the problem is.

Tomorrow is James’ birthday. Despite the fact their other soulmate tried killing Alec he knows his Sansha still cares about the other spy. Even blames himself for what happened.

So he needs to distract his spy for a little bit or get the older man to talk about it and actually deal with the fact James attempted to kill Alec. Now how to do it?

He knows exactly what to do, he thinks with a smile, a nice hot bath and cuddle along with handing over a paper with the whereabouts of every remaining member of the Afonin Bratva.

Grinning, he grabs his phone from beside his laptop and quickly dials up Dayesi. Alec’s fellow assassin and spy should know if it’s a good plan. Particularly as she used to be his Sansha’s lover, a fact he is probably not supposed to know.

“Good morning, Dayesi,” he greets her in French just because he can and knows she’ll understand.

 _’Why are you calling me, Jon? I’m fairly sure Alec is home with you.’_ She replies sounding a bit testy.

“Because you happen to be one of Alec’s closest friends and his ex-lover so I want your opinion on something.” He replies calmly.

 _’I didn’t realize you knew,’_ she mutters.

“Hacker, Dayesi, hacker. I know lots of things I probably shouldn’t.” He remarks chuckling, getting serious he states, “I’d like your opinion and possibly your assistance.”

 _’On what?’_ she queries coolly.

“Well, tomorrow is the first of April,” he tells her, “Alec has been moping and I realized a little bit ago what the problem is.”

She sighs, _’I was hoping he wouldn’t do that with you around.’_

“He still is, and since I doubt he will confront the problem emotionally or at all in fact, I came up with a distraction plan. Last year Aither showed up, probably why it didn’t happen.” He explains quickly.

 _’What’s the plan?’_ she asks.

“Hot bath, nice massage, and the list of all remaining Afonin Bratva with locations,” he replies, waiting for her reaction.

She whistles, _’That’s quite a distraction.’_

“That was the goal,” he responds, “Think it will work?”

There is silence on the line for several minutes while she thinks about that and he waits for an answer.

 _’Possibly,’_ she eventually states, _’Or worst case it gives him someone to take his frustrations out on.’_

“Well then, I will assemble the list,” he replies, booting up his laptop and making sure the printer is ready.

 _’Then I will make sure Bogdan and I are ready for any trips in the next few days,’_ she responds, _’Have fun!’_

He rolls his eyes as he hangs up. A moment later his focus is totally on the laptop and pulling all the information he can find on them to compile into a chart. Right now Alec is downstairs in their gym area working out. Occasionally he checks the cameras to see if his soulmate is still there. Once he has the list made, he organizes it by location and rank within the bratva. There, he thinks when it’s done, his Sansha should like that.

Shutting everything down, he heads to their room next to set up the supplies for a nice massage and getting the stuff together for a relaxing bath and shower.

As soon as he feels everything is ready there, he goes to see where Ottar is.

“Hello,” he greets their housekeeper and cook, “Did you have anything on for lunch?”

“I was thinking cold sandwiches, Isha, do you have something else in mind?” the Swedish man replies curiously.

He thinks about it and smiles, “That’d be perfect, if you could get those and maybe some fruit salad together, coffee and tea.”

“Sure, dining room or table in front of your room?” Ottar asks.

“Table please,” he replies, thinking about his plan. “In an hour or so?”

The housekeeper nods, “Of course! I was doing roast beef and swiss cheese on some of the bread Gregor dropped off.”

“Great, thank you,” he responds with a nod, mind already moving on to the next part of the plan.

Heading downstairs, he spends a few minutes leaning against the wall nearest the door and just watching the fluid way Alec moves. He’s not sure what form of martial arts the patterns are from. He just knows he likes watching as his soulmate performs them. There is something graceful about the movements.

“Vansha,” his Sansha murmurs as he closes the space between them, “what can I do for you?”

Smiling, he straightens away from the wall, “I came to see if you’d join me in a bath?”

Alec’s lips curl into a small smile, green-blue eyes crinkling in pleasure, “I’d like that.”

“Good,” he comments softly, holding up a hand, palm up.

He always feels lucky when Alec accepts his hand. Always feels surprise that his soulmate stayed when he never thought the older man would. He always feels pleasure when he sees that warm look he won’t put a name to. This here, what they share, it’s what his parents would have wanted for him. It’s not easy, and sometimes it’s downright terrifying, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not when he gets those honest smiles and the warm turquoise eyes.

Sometimes he wants to track James down and beat the living fuck out of his second soulmate for all the pain James’ actions have caused. However he is smart enough to know it’s not a fight he’d win at this point. Eventually though, he knows Alec will be ready to see James again, and eventually he will be in place to get in that fight with James and hold his own.

When they get to their room, Alec snickers when he spots the massage oils sitting out.

“Which one of us did you think is getting the massage?” His soulmate queries curiously.

“I was sort of thinking I can give you one, we can cuddle for a little bit, and you could give me one,” he answers softly. “I like seeing you smile and you haven’t been honestly smiling for the last few days.”

Almost immediately his Sansha gets tense, eyes changing to a darker shade of blue, the green nearly fading away,

Stepping into the older man’s space, hand coming up to rest on his soulmate’s bicep, he states, “I understand. It’s no different from you holding me while I mourned the loss of my family.”

“It’s very different,” Alec snaps, expression shuttering and going cold.

Sighing, he shifts his body weight on the balls of his feet. His hand tightens around Alec’s arm, the other one coming up to mirror it as he pulls, catching his soulmate off guard. They go tumbling onto the bed, his Sansha’s reaction closing the distance when the older man immediately goes to break the hold he has and instead propels them across the space between the bathroom door and bed. Landing on top, he braces his his weight using his arms, still holding onto Alec’s biceps. He’s well aware this is something the older man could escape if his spy wanted to, but he trusts that Alec won’t, at least for now.

Switching to Gaelic Scottish, he states clearly, “It is no different.”

“James isn’t dead,” his soulmate bites out, glaring at him.

“You can still mourn him, mourn the relationship lost, mourn the betrayal. Just because he isn’t dead doesn’t mean he isn’t gone,” he firmly tells his spy.

Alec’s only answer is to glare at him some more.

Curiously, he queries, “Do you think there is something wrong with me because I mourned my parents’ deaths even before I knew they were dead when it was only a suspicion?”

“No,” his Sansha snaps.

“Then why do you think there is something wrong with you?”  he asks, honestly baffled at that.

Twice it looks like his soulmate is going to respond, and twice it fades away just as quickly. Eventually, the older man mutters, “Shouldn’t surprise a double-o like that. I still have the instincts even if I’m not one anymore.”

His hand slips up the older man’s arm and shoulder to trace along scars and stroke the skin. “I trust you won’t hurt me,” he replies gently.

A moment later he finds himself flipped on his back, Alec’s sturdy body bracketing him in.

” _Jon_ ,” his soulmate whispers, pressing their lips together and kissing him deeply, stealing his breath.

His hand comes up to stroke along his Sansha’s face again, brushing sardonyx hair out of the older man’s face, simply enjoying the fact he can.

“I don’t deserve you,” his spy mutters, head dropping to press their foreheads together lightly.

“Of course you do, you wouldn’t be my soulmate otherwise,” he reasons.

Alec chuckles, the older man’s hot breath washing over his face.

“How about that bath now?” he suggests with a playful smile, intentionally blowing on his Sansha’s face.

Acting like he has to think about it, Alec takes his time agreeing, and takes even more time moving so they can get up. “Shower,” the older man states.

“Shower it is,” he agrees, still smiling.

The shower is nice. They take turns washing each other. Alec even discovers the sensitive spot on his leg which can get some reaction out of him, though not a lot. When they get out, they take turns drying each other off before heading over to their bed.

“May I?” his soulmate asks, motioning to the bottles.

“Of course,” he agrees nearly instantly.

In minutes, he is humming in enjoyment as his soulmate works the smaller kinks and knots out, his body relaxing into the bedding, eyes drifting shut as he simply enjoys the way it feels. He likes having Alec’s hands on him, likes the way his Sansha knows how to alternate between pressing hard and gently, where the pads of the fingers are better than the knuckles, and everything in between.

When Alec is done, he opens his eyes and asks, “Would you like one?”

“Not right now,” his soulmate responds, pulling him close.

“Okay,” he agrees, nuzzling the shoulder closest to him. He’s very partial to just touching. It’s nice.

For a little bit they just lay there, bodies curled together. He smiles against warm skin as he listens to the older man’s heart beat. Sometimes he’s the one who curls up against Alec’s side and sometimes he’s the little spoon. Sometimes his Sansha curls up against his side and sometimes his Sansha is the little spoon.  Since Alec is normally the first in bed, who sleeps where normally ends up depending on their mood.

Glancing up, he notices that his soulmate’s eyes are shuttered, that dark blue color that comes with frustration or anger.

“Grab that bundle of papers,” he suggests, waving a hand towards the pile on his spy’s nightstand.

Alec gives him a questioning look but does so.

"These are," the older man mutters as he looks through them. Alec's voice is harsh, almost hoarse as Sansha demands,  "Where did you get this?"

“I made it, figured if you didn’t want to talk about it, you can work it off in other ways,” he answers with a shrug. “I like to see you happy.”

He laughs when the papers are set aside and the bigger man rolls over him so he’s covered from ankle to shoulder, left staring up at his soulmate’s face.

“Hi,” he comments softly.

“Hello,” Alec replies, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he hums, reaching up to tap his finger against the older man’s nose. “But not until after lunch, which is waiting for us on the table outside the room if I’m not mistaken.”

Chuckling, his soulmate rolls away, grabbing the pajama bottoms off the end of the bed and slipping them on before fetching their lunch.


	78. Interfering and a New Voice

Jon's POV  
One of the things he does as a hacker is keep track of the third member of their triad. While they have not approached James because he wants Alec to be ready first, he still makes sure that nothing happens to the spy in the meantime. Thankfully his best friend doesn't mind helping him with that goal and keeping track. So when she buzzes him that there is a problem with the mission James is on, and that she doesn't think James’ handler is going to be able to get him out, he decides to do something about it.

Thankfully Alec is with Pyotr and Dayesi for the week, dealing with a few issues while he works from home. His Sansha has been very concerned about his safety since that kidnapping just a few short months ago. Some would even say his love is paranoid, but considering his Sansha’s history, that is perfectly understandable.

Heading to his office, he quickly gets everything logged in on his tower, slipping an earwig he made in as he does so. That way he will be able to speak to Bond without having to use his hands to hold a phone. It takes less than five minutes to get himself up to speed and cut into the line between Bond and MI6, taking MI6’s place.

"Bond, take a left at the next turn, follow that for three streets and take a right," he orders without bothering to identify himself.

The spy freezes from what he can tell, as if contemplating whether to obey or not.

"Move it unless you feel like being shot." He snaps, putting force behind his tone.

A moment later his second soulmate is obeying, pacing himself as he runs where directed.

"Duck into the building on your right, there should be two doors, you want the second one." He states, hands flying over the keyboard. He has contacts in Italy where James is, perhaps he can get one of them to be of assistance.

Grabbing his laptop out of the drawer without taking his eyes off the screen of his tower, he powers it up. Once it is ready, his eyes flicker between screens as he scrolls the list. Good, he was right.

"Where next?" The spy asks, sarcasm nearly dripping from his tone.

"Follow the hallway, second to last door on the right, knock three times, tap twice, and wait." He answers, he was happy to have identified the building and the forger who lives there as the one from Aither's network. "Entry code is Shadow Eyes."

"Seriously?" Disbelief fills the agents tone, "You're not MI6."

He smiles to himself as he retorts, "Maybe not but I'm the one who's going to keep you from getting caught and shot."

"Why?" Bond demands, doing the knock as told, and waiting.

Before he has time to answer, he hears a muffled voice over the com, "Who is it?"

Snorting, Bond answers, "Shadow Eyes."

He hears as the lock is thrown clearer than he had heard the words, and assumes that the spy steps in.

"You belong to the Shadow Lady or the Kind One?"

"Tell them the Kind One sent you," he tells the spy.

"Seriously?" Bond mutters, a bit louder he tells the forger, "The Kind One sent me."

"Good, good," the forger responds, "Then I will just leave you alone unless you need something?"

"No," Bond remarks, "I don't need something."

Since he knows that Bond will be safe for at least three minutes, he sets to finding a way for the spy out of the city that doesn't include running into any of the issues he can see with the satellite he borrowed.

It's just over two minutes before he finds what he is looking for, and sets up an extract for the spy by hacking into the communication network for MI6.

"Ready to get out of there?" He asks, fingers flying over the keys as he does so.

"Yes," Bond responds, "Exit plan?"

"Have Lo show you to the back door. From there, I see a motorbike parked on the left side, motor’s cold. Take that to the train on the south side of the city. You are taking the train to the next town over where your ride will be waiting for you. I'll leave the com open to make sure you don't run into trouble." He instructs the spy.

"Are you certain?" James demands.

"Of course, this isn't my first extraction," he retorts calmly, rolling his eyes at the screen. "Move quickly, they have bypassed this building for now, but that doesn't mean they won't come back to it."

Bond growls at the orders but does as told, muttering the motorbike's plate number without him having to ask. That's good, he can repay the owner for the loss of his transportation.

"Move it, Bond," he snarls when he notices one of the goons coming around the corner.

"If I knew where you were I'd move it to you," Bond replies.

"I doubt it," he remarks. "Take a left and use the alley to lose them."

The spy listens to him thankfully, and soon enough there is no one on Bond's tail. Not that he relaxes, he won't until the transport has his second soulmate and they are in their way back to London.

Oo-o-oO

James POV  
It was supposed to be an easy job. Get in, get the files, get out. There wasn't supposed to be anyone there because of the holiday. Instead, he is interrupted by no less than six armed men, and they called for more. The idiot running the operation doesn't have a clue what to do and he is considering going dark to get out on his own when the line is cut into.

His first impression of the voice is who let a kid on? Only it can't be a kid. Not with the type of authority being barked across the line. Well, worst case is he still goes dark to get himself out of this mess.

He listens to the instructions, obeying them and keeping a close ear out for followers. Somehow, with the instructions quickly being given, almost in real time, he is able to find an old stone building with small stores in the front and flats in the back. The instructions lead him to a door at the back of the building where he meets a person he can't tell if they're male or female.

When the voice tells him the code to get in is Shadow Eyes, he rolls his eyes muttering, "Seriously?" Who picks something like that as a code? This is literally a kid on his coms. A kid broke through MI6's secure line to tell him how to get out of dodge. No way it can be a kid. No kid would have that much talent. It has to be an experienced hacker, that means whoever it is just sounds young. "You're not MI6."

"Maybe not but I'm the one who's going to keep you from getting caught and shot,"  the man on his com retorts with amusement.

"Why?" He finds himself asking curiously, honestly wondering why a stranger is helping him.

On the other side of the door he hears the sound of someone approaching, and before his unknown handler answers, a bland voice calls out, "Who is it?"

He snorts in disdain as he answers in the most bored tone he can come up with, "Shadow Eyes."

There is four locks on the door, and it swings open to reveal a smaller person with dark hair, green eyes, upper body that reminds him of a bloke, but wearing a long skirt.

To each their own, he thinks, making sure not to show anything on his face.

Quietly the person asks, "You belong to the Shadow Lady or the Kind One?"

"Tell them the Kind One sent you," his unusual handler informs him, and he can hear the sound of keys being tapped on a computer.

"Seriously?" He mutters in disbelief, what sort of codes are these? A bit louder he tells the contact, "The Kind One sent me," watching to see what sort of reaction he gets.

"Good, good," the contact responds, stepping out of the way so he can step in. "Then I will just leave you alone unless you need something?"

"No," he answers politely, scoping the room, "I don't need something."

The contact nods, closing the door behind them and re-locking it.

He takes the time the handler is being quiet and tapping at the keyboard to study the layout and get a feel for this contact. There is nothing that gives away career path, but he's quite sure whatever it is isn't legal, or is only barely legal.

"Ready to get out of there?" His unusual handler asks, fingers flying over the keys as he does so.

"Yes," he answers nearly instantly, feeling ill at ease since this plan is not how this mission was supposed to go. He's almost excited as he asks, "Exit plan?"

"Have Lo show you to the back door. From there, I see a motorbike parked on the left side, motor’s cold. Take that to the train on the south side of the city. You are taking the train to the next town over where your ride will be waiting for you. I'll leave the com open to make sure you don't run into trouble." The voice in his com instructs him.  

"Are you certain?" He demands when the 'Kind One' is done speaking.

"Of course, this isn't my first extraction," the voice retorts calmly, giving him a small idea as to who this is. This handler has to belong to one of the agencies, only question is which one? Apparently it takes to long for him to get to moving cause the voice tells him,  "Move quickly, they have bypassed this building for now, but that doesn't mean they won't come back to it."

He growls at the orders but does as told, asking Lo to take him through the back. When he gets to the motorbike, he mutters it's plate number, though he's not sure why. It's not something he's had to do before.

"Move it, Bond," the handler snarls.

"If I knew where you were I'd move it to you," he's almost smirking as he retorts.

"I doubt it," the Kind One remarks. "Take a left and use the alley to lose them."

He follows the instructions, then follows the road signs to the train station. They are in the process of calling for last chance when he strides up, and hops on. He's going to have a bit of time before he reaches the next town. That should give him plenty of time to think about what went wrong and who it is giving him instructions.


	79. Self Doubt

Alec's POV  
The second the car is off, he is out of it and striding into the house, excited to be home to see his Jon after six days without. Yes, they have spoken on the phone every night and even most mornings. It's not the same however.

"Jon?" he calls out as he closes the garage entrance door behind himself.

"My office, love," Jon calls back, excitement in his tone.

Smirking about his little workaholic, he takes off his over coat and jacket, quickly stripping down to just his shirt because he doesn't like to wear any more layers than he has to. After nearly two years with his hacker, he is starting to feel comfortable with skin showing around Jon. It doesn't matter that he spent the better part of three months wearing nothing but a sheet and casts as he was recovering, that wasn't really his choice. This is, here and now, is his choice. It's his choice every time he let's Jon touch him. Though it's definitely no hardship, hasn't been a hardship since his Rowan showed him the soulmarks.

Stepping in the office, he glances around and notes that Jon has his mission running setup going. Why? There wasn't any active missions that he knows of. Unless Jon was running one for Aither's team, that’s possible considering how often they work together.

"Who were you guiding?" he asks as he wraps his arms around the younger man's shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss to Jon's temple.

"James,"  his Rowan responds. "I'm happy you’re home early." A soft kiss is pressed to the knuckles of his fingers.

James? Did Aither get someone new on her team? He knows they do not have a James, but he didn't think that the other hacker has anyone under that name either.

His mind is still whirling as he hears the computers shut down. A moment later the slender genius is standing, turning to wrap strong arms around him. Tipping his head up, Jon presses a light kiss to his chin, smiling against his skin.

Dipping his head down, he presses his lips to Jon's, kissing his soulmate deeply.

"Hello Sansha," the younger man murmurs breathlessly when they finally separate.

"Hello Vansha," he replies, pressing a second kiss to his younger soulmate's lips.

Several minutes are spent with them standing in Jon's study. His arms wrapped around Jon's waist, Vansha's looped around his shoulders, slender fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck while they take their time kissing. When they finally break apart, his Rowan tucks his head against his chest, arms slipping down to tightly hold his waist.

Eventually the smaller man asks, "Did your trip go as planned?"

"Yes, better actually," he answers, nuzzling the dark head just below his jaw.

"Good," Jon comments, continuing, "I'm making pot roast unless you have something else you'd like?"

"Pot roast is good," he responds.

"Good, come cuddle with me for a bit?" his Rowan requests.

He nods, arms sliding down, and off before he steps back.

The two of them retreat to his bedroom, where he takes his time removing the clothes on both of them so they are in nothing, but their pants before they crawl into the bed. Jon snuggles up against his side, long limbs tucking along his body. During his recovery Jon would hold him, now it is his turn to hold Vansha.

They spend a while curled around each other before his Rowan speaks.

"Aither notified me that our James was in a danger, that his mission was being run by an idiot, and so I took it over," Jon tells him quietly. "I know we have no plans to seek him out at this point, but I didn't think leaving him to get injured or killed would be a good idea."

His blood runs cold. Jon walked James, his storm, through a mission? What if his Rowan realizes how much better James is? What if everything they've built over the last two years collapses? What if his Rowan discovers how broken and worthless and useless he is?

Forcing himself to calm down, his grip tightens slightly, but he says nothing about it, just nodding and kissing the top of Jon's head. His eyes close and he forces himself to just breath, loosening his grip on Jon’s waist. For a little bit it even works, and he enjoys his time curled up with Jon. Eventually the sound of a chime draws his attention, and he groans, arms tightening once more before letting go.

"That's the dinner chime," Jon mumbles against his chest, "our food is done."

Nodding, he watches as his Rowan gets up and grabs a pair of sleeping bottoms before reaching for him to tug him towards the edge of the bed. He takes the hand, letting the smaller man pull him over, and going willingly enough to pull Jon between his legs as he sits on the edge of the bed. Smirking, he presses his lips to Jon's kissing him deeply.

"Would you like to eat in bed?" Jon offers, hand coming up stroke along his jaw.

He gives a small shake of his head, "No, how about in front of the library fireplace?" he suggests, thinking it might be a bit better.

Smiling at him, Vansha presses their lips together in a soft kiss before stepping back, "I'll make us plates and meet you there."

"Good," he replies, watching as the younger man turns and walks away.

As soon as Jon is out of the room, he presses his palms to his eyes growling in frustration. Why is he not physically reacting to Jon? His soulmate is gorgeous, generous, caring, intelligent, everything that he could ever want. So why isn't he responding? Why would Jon want him? He's broken, worthless, useless. He can't please his soulmate physically. James could. James has never had this problem. Damn it. Jon will probably prefer a functioning partner.

There is no way Jon is going to want to stay with him.

"Alec, you coming?" Vansha calls out.

"Yes," he replies loud enough to be heard. "I wish," he mutters as he stands up. "I really wish."

He grabs a pair of his soft pajama bottoms and slips them on, a moment later he pulls the shirt that goes with it on as well. At the moment he is feeling very self-conscious about all the scars marring his skin. Normally it's not this bad but....

Closing his eyes tightly and tugging on his hair, he forces himself to calm down. He can't let Jon know he’s feeling like this. That would just cause bigger problems because it would reveal exactly how inadequate of a man he really is. He does not, _cannot_ have Jon thinking that. Not after everything he has tried to do to make his Rowan want to stay with him.

He's known from the beginning, hell, even before he knew they were soulmates that the chance of him being enough for Jon were slim. He hadn't been enough for James, why would he be for Jon? He is going to lose his Rowan. No. He can't. Not now. Only how to stop it?

Plan time, he thinks, forcing himself into tactical mode. First: calm down. Second: make sure to spend time with Jon. Third: while spending time with Jon make sure to do things the younger man enjoys. Fourth: don't panic about James. So that's what he is going to do.

Nodding once to himself, he heads to the other room, settling himself on the thick rug laid out before the fireplace where his Rowan has set up a picnic dinner. With a small fire going and casting warmth on the rug it’s comfortable, and he smiles at his soulmate.

Jon smiles back at him, angling his body so their sides pressed together. "I figured we could share a plate?"

He nods, pressing a soft kiss to Vansha's temple. "Yes,"

They spend the next little bit feeding each other small bites of food. Taking turns spearing pieces and giving them to each other. Small touches fill the spaces between. Fingers lightly touching small expanses of skin, gentle caresses and light strokes. It sets fire to his blood, yet he has zero physical reaction.

He pushes that thought aside, focusing on spending time with Jon.

When the meal is done, he sets the dishes aside, while Jon gets the fire built up once more.  After cleaning up they curl up together, bodies touching from ankle to shoulder. He is curled around the smaller man, hands lightly caressing the exposed skin. Jon just snuggles in, arms settling over his, hands covering his.

Jon drifts off to sleep in his arms, taking a nap even though it's midday, making him wonder how long his Rowan has been awake.

He suppresses a tremble as he glances between Jon and the fire. Ever since Arkhangelsk he's been uncomfortable with fire, at the same time he is drawn to it. Closing his eyes, he enjoys the show of trust that Jon puts in him.

When he first woke two years ago, Jon never slept when he was awake. Just the slightest noise or movement would wake the younger man. Now, he smiles, now Jon falls asleep in his arms.

He doesn't want to lose that. He'll do anything to avoid that.

How can he compete with James who is far closer than him to being whole? How can he even hope to keep Jon's interest? So far his Rowan has shown no signs of wanting James, but he got home early. What if Jon has run other missions and is bonding with their third without telling him? James doesn't want him,. That was made perfectly clear when his Storm tried to kill him by dropping him. What if Jon decides to go to James instead.

How would he cope losing Jon?

Shaking his head, he forces those thoughts away. No. He can't think like that. Jon's not going to leave him. His Rowan wouldn't do that.

He has to stop thinking like this. It's not helping him in the least. He just has to make sure Jon knows he loves him. Even if it's something he has a hard time saying, he can show it. He has to be able to show it. Jon has to know. Then Jon won't leave him.


	80. Logical Reasoning

Jon’s POV  
For some reason Alec is acting odd. At times it reminds him of how his Sansha acted before discovering they were soulmates. It doesn’t make sense, what’s changed to make his Sansha so nervous? He’s been working from home in the office the last few weeks, mostly because he’s fine leaving Dmitri in charge of the shelter and Nikanor managing the rentals.

So what’s going on with his spy? Well, when did it start? The day Alec got back from his trip with Dayesi and Pyotr last week. His spy had been acting weird then, most of which waved off as being tired since neither of them slept very well without the other. Only it’s last past that, almost an entire week now. Something’s wrong, he just has to figure out what it is.

Had he done something to bother Alec? Not that he can remember. Wait. He ran that mission for James. It was the first time he’d ran one for James. The only reason he ran it was because his handlers were doing a piss poor job and he didn’t want their third triad member killed off or so badly hurt that it left lasting physical effects. He knows Sansha would feel like shit if that happened, mostly wondering what he could have done to prevent it even though James tossed his love out of his life with the intention to kill Alec.

Well shit. His soulmate probably thinks that he’s going to leave for James. What a foolish concept, and yet, he hesitant for a moment, sighing, _yet_ it’s probably exactly what’s going through Alec’s overactive brain.

Taking a deep breath, he calms himself down. Being furious isn’t going to make things any better. In fact, it might just make them worse. Time to think this through logically.

Alec was out with Dayesi and Pyotr on a recruitment and finish dealing with the Afonin Bratva. There isn’t going to be a lot left of that particular branch of the Russian mafia at this time. Those who were allowed to live were also recruited and put with loyal members to be watched to make sure they don’t turn traitor. He’s already befriended two of them.

Aither alerted him to James being in a bit of a situation. She’s dealt with a few previously, but indirectly by making the handlers see what she needs them to in order to get James out. This time she couldn’t, so he used his tower computer and did so himself.

It was like a shock to his system when he heard James voice. It was almost as familiar as Alec yet he’d never heard it before. Despite that, he had guided his second soulmate out of a dangerous situation and through one of his and Aither’s contacts, a forger who excels at doing vanishing acts. His instincts say James won’t turn Lo in or report the forger.  He had remained on the line, whether his second soulmate knew it or not, until James had walked into MI6.

He had turned Alec’s mic on, but not speaker in hopes that he’d get a chance to just listen to his first soulmate during the quiet moments. Relief filled him when he realizes that his spy is on the way home, even though it’s a day early and that everything in the mission was a success. So he headed to the kitchen and pulled the pot roast he intended for the next night out to shove in the oven. Since he was alone at the house, he’d told Ottar he’d grab his own meals if the cook could make a few things up that could be eaten cold. Of course, that didn’t stop the cook and housekeeper from making sure he ate breakfast in the morning with his tea.

When the front door alert had chimed, he had glanced at the small camera screen, grinning when he realized it was his soulmate. Their exchange hadn’t really been unusual for them. He knew his Sansha wouldn’t rest unless he rested, so he made sure to rest for a bit. First so Alec could relax a little bit and second because he spent a lot of time at that computer and he needed it too.

It was after that when his spy’s behavior turned weird. Only it took him longer than it should have to put the pieces together. Of course, he always told Alec people were his weak spot, he wasn’t joking. He can read digital information on a person and understand them far better than he can when looking them in the face.

Subtle reassurance doesn’t really work for his spy, he thinks, smiling ruefully. If it did, they probably wouldn’t be in that sort of situation. So how to do so?

Confront Alec.

That’s really the only option he has. He has to get whatever it is out in the open before they can deal with it. It’s probably not going to be easy or pretty, but it’s necessary and that’s the part that counts. He refuses to allow what they have been slowly building to be destroyed when it doesn’t have to be.

Now how to go about confronting Alec? Come at it from the front? No, that’d make his soulmate very defensive, which is the last thing he needs. So he has to come at it from the side. The question is how? He needs advice from someone with better people skills, he decides, nodding decisively.

Turning on his laptop, he’s logged in and messaging his best friend before he can get too much further in the thinking about this.

—Black Queen, how the hell did you approach a problem with your Russian when he started thinking something stupid?— he queries, knowing she will immediately understand why he is asking.

—Has yours been acting like an idiot? I find sex or a good fight solves a lot of problems with mine. — she replies a moment later.

—You know sex is out, — he retorts, already relaxing because she’ll probably be able to offer some advice.

— ; ) that’s right, I forgot for a moment you’re, what’s the term, demi? Stress makes things like that take longer. — she comments. A moment later continuing, —Spar with him, make him focus on avoiding sharp knives rather than your discussion. That way he can’t overthink it.—

He spends a few minutes thinking about that suggestion, looking a few things up for one of his buildings. —Yeah, that might work. He worries about injuring me when we spar. Forgetting that I used to do acrobatics and gymnastics as a hobby so dodging is not as hard as attacking.—

—ROTFL— she replies nearly instantly.

—Bite me BQ.— he responds smirking at the screen.

—Sorry love, I’m sure our Russians would pout.— she retorts.

—*snickers* probably. It might get him off the current problem though.—  He remarks, then has an epiphany and continues,—On second thought. It’d start all new problems. Never mind.—

—It’s always an idea for later. Worst case scenario and all that.—she suggests.

—Worst case is kidnap J and let A take his frustration out.— he retorts, only half joking.

—Oh.—there is a pause. —One of those sort of problems. Definitely some sparring, maybe get him off? He’s not demi is he?—

—He’s not but since nearly dying his body has had zero reactions, and I think that’s adding to the problem.— he responds, feeling frustrated all over again. —What if the fact I am demi is the reason he is having issues?—

—I’m rolling my eyes at both of you. He nearly _died!_ Of course he’s having _issues._ It has _nothing_ to do with you.—

A moment later the earwig he keeps with the laptop flicks on, and he picks it up almost hesitantly to slip it in his ear.

 _’There is nothing wrong with you,’_ she practically snarls. _’And maybe there is something wrong with him, but probably just his body isn’t done healing. I will get on a fucking plane and be there by tomorrow night if you need me to make that point in person.’_

“Tomorrow’s his birthday, I’d really rather you not show up to start a fight.” He replies, surprised at how furious she sounds.

 _’When do you plan on speaking with him?’_ Her voice is a lot calmer now, but he can still hear that edge she gets when there is a situation. Normally situations for her involve rival gangs and occasionally dealing with the CIA and FBI. Her favorite way to deal with them? Not be where they expect her to be. She doesn’t like authority figures and is excellent at disguising herself to get the hell out of dodge.

“Probably tonight, hopefully we can figure this shit out because I don’t like him being so nervous. It makes me edgy.” He answers after a moment of thought.

 _’I’ll clear the two days following. If your conversation doesn’t work, well, sometimes an outsider’s needed to make a point.’_ she tells him. _’The newest addition to my team has a pilot’s license, so it’s just a matter of getting my hands on a plane and there are several people who owe me favors that have planes.’_

“I’m thankful you’re a friend and not an enemy,” he tells her, only partly joking because she’d be a definite challenge to deal with.

 _’You never judged me for being non-marked, a hacker, street kid, or blunt.’_ she replies almost lazily, tone getting distracted, and the edge fading. _’We make an excellent team, between us we could rule the world if we wanted. Probably a good thing we don’t want to.’_

Laughing, he mutters, “True enough. I think prior to getting dropped that was on Alec’s agenda, or at least burning the world down.”

 _’Well,’_ she hums, _’he’s sometimes an idiot.’_

He just laughs harder, because she’s not totally mistaken on that count. “Thanks.”

 _’Any time,’_ she agrees. _’Apparently, I need to go stab someone. I’m leaving the earwig in, page me if you need help.’_

“Will do,” he replies, “Stay safe, may your blades be sharper.”

She laughs as her mic goes off.

He reaches up and clicks his off, but doesn’t take it out yet.

He’s got an idea what to do. So now it’s just a matter of waiting for Alec to get home from speaking with the new recruits who start the first day of training next Monday and are settling into the small barracks his soulmate provides.

Over the next few days, Alec will probably make it a point to speak with all of them individually, at least a little bit. He actually has his own small group of minion among those who work for his soulmate. They give him reports on whether his Sansha takes care of himself and make sure he gets plenty to eat and relaxes occasionally. He’s sure they can handle the newbies along with Pyotr for twenty-four hours so he can spend the day trying to spoil his hard to spoil soulmate.

Grabbing his phone, he calls Viktor, the most senior of his minions among the mercenaries, and also a supply captain.

“Hello Viktor,” he greets the older man as the phone’s picked up.

 _’Ivan! What can I do for you?’_ Viktor replies almost excited.

“I’m keeping Aleksei home with me tomorrow, please make sure the new recruits are not hazed and have what they need.” He replies. The government has a bad habit of allowing their older military members to harass the young and new ones. They don’t allow that. But sometimes they need to be reminded.

 _’Of course, of course, I’ll see to it and put Ana on it as well,’_ the supply captain agrees.

He smiles, Ana will be perfect. She’s one the rare female captains and in charge of the purely female unit.

Ana’s unit is probably the most diverse one in the bunch, with women coming from a wide variety of backgrounds and skill sets making it up. It’s almost big enough to divide in two, but they don’t have a candidate to head up the second one, and aren’t planning to put one of the men in that post since a lot of the men make the mistake of underestimating them. Two of the unit are from his street kids who jumped at a chance to do something new. They’ll help with the welcoming new folks.

“That’s perfect,” he responds. “Thank you.”

 _‘Oh no, we’re the ones who need to thank you and Aleksei, for everything, have a pleasant time.’_ Viktor replies quickly.

Before it can devolve into a game of who thanks who, he bids the older man goodbye and hangs up. He then heads to the bedroom to set things up, because after they get done stressing each other he is giving his soulmate a nice massage. That is, as long as Alec still wants him around. He already has a good idea what he’s going to do to celebrate his Sansha’s birthday, they just need to get to that point.


	81. Sparring and Confrontation

Alec’s POV  
Jon was a bit standoffish this morning, not the ‘I need more sleep’ sort but the ‘you’re bothering me go the hell away’ sort. He’s sure that means his soulmate is going to leave. Soon. He’ll be left alone again. This time he’ll be without a doubt be forsaken as unwanted. Maybe he’ll find James and let his first soulmate finish the job.

When he gets home, his Vansha isn’t in the bedroom or office. That is really unusual, because those are where he finds the hacker most often. Maybe his Rowan has already left? That doesn’t seem right. What if the house’s security was compromised and he was taken again?

“Oh good,” he hears behind him, turning to spot his soulmate exiting the hallway bathroom. “Hello Sansha.”

A moment later the smaller man closes the space between them, kissing him gently before asking, “Come spar with me for a bit?”

He blinks and nods slowly, not sure where this is coming from. However he is all for sparring with his soulmate. He loves watching the way Jon moves, slender body deceptive in that he looks like a strong wind would blow the hacker away when in truth his Vansha can easily take his weight and still move. When Jon was kidnapped he had been terrified because they hadn’t done much training with the knives, he had no idea that his soulmate knew how to defend himself with them and he could kill if need be. That had been quite a revelation. However, his Vansha had requested they work on hand to hand because Jon felt insecure in it afterwards. He easily agreed.

When they get to the training room, he notices that the practice blades are put up. So that means that his soulmate wants to play with the real ones or wanting to work on straight hand to hand.

“Something in particular you want to work on?” he asks curiously.

Turning towards him and nodding, Jon replies, “Attacking. I’m great at dodging and defense, not so good with attacking.” Glancing at the drawer the different blades are kept in, the teenager offers, “If you want, I can use the practice blades?”

“If I can’t avoid someone as new to hand to hand knife fighting as you, I deserve to be sliced up,” he replies with a playful smile. This is okay, he likes sparring, he just doesn’t want to push Jon with it too much. Of course, he hadn’t realized until Aither’s visit that his Vansha likes to spar. Apparently the teen likes dodging more than anything.

They head over to the mat, but Jon doesn’t immediately pull the knives. Ah, one of those sort.

Sure enough, almost as soon as both of them are on, his Vansha attacks but not in a method he’s expecting. He expected maybe a punch, possibly a kick, but definitely not the quick elbow followed by a back fist that he just barely avoids. He’s reminded that while his soulmate doesn’t have the sort of training he has, the teenager does have some training.

Side stepping, he considers countering but decides against it because he’s playing defensive right now.

The next attack is a flurry of movement as Jon turns with him, eyes gray and narrow, one foot lashing out to hook around his knee while Jon uses his elbow to aim at his shoulder, forcing him to twist to dodge.

A moment later the first of the knives appears but he’s startled because the teen doesn’t actually attack with the hand holding the knife. Instead his Vansha skips back, jerking hard with the leg the younger man hooked behind his and spinning, opposite arm slamming into his back and almost making him stumble.

Game on, he thinks, spinning and wrapping his arm around Jon’s with the knife.

Smirking, his soulmate lets his muscles go lax, dropping the knife into the other hand and doing a quick slash with it, making him blink because it wasn’t how he was expecting the teen to react. He has to let go to avoid the graze of the knife against his stomach.

After that, the match becomes a lot more dangerous, because he adds attacking to his defense, trying to get the knife away from Jon. For the most part his soulmate dodges out of the way but still mixes in a decent amount of attacks as well, very few are actually with the knife.

It’s exhilarating: the dangerous dance they build up, quick movements and barely held back attacks. He notices that most of his Vansha’s attacks come in the form of elbows and knees, but there are several back fists, punches and proper kicks in the mix as well, making him wonder if he had more than just the occasional self defense lesson with his dad.

It’s after a rather close call with the first knife that the second comes into play.

He wraps his arms around the teens upper arms and shoulders, curious to see how Jon’s going to react.

Head dropping, his Vansha goes lax in his hold, so he tightens his grip slightly, to make sure the hacker doesn’t slip downwards, instead he feels the soft graze of the blade against the fabric of his shirt, releasing the teen and hopping back he realizes that the second knife is now out too.

He meets Jon’s eyes and is startled to see the determination in them.

“Jon?” he asks, hating himself for the hesitation in his voice. Damn it, the point was to prove he’s a worthwhile choice not prove he isn’t!

Vansha doesn’t answer, instead the blades are flipped so one of the edges is flush against the younger man’s wrists and the other is outwards. A very dangerous trick with the blades his soulmate is currently holding.

A moment later, the hacker darts forward, making a sweeping motion with his right and an uppercut with the left.

He dances back out of the range of the blades.

“Why are you convinced I’m going to leave?” Jon demands between executing a hook kick to behind his right knee and a quick swipe of the blade towards his upper arm.

“What?” he’s confused, why is his soulmate asking a question while sparring?

“Why,” Upper cut with the blade turned away to his jaw. “Are,” Slash across his stomach. “You,” The knee is jerked on hard, dragging him forward before he propels himself backwards with a scowl. “Convinced,” Quick spin away with an across slash of the blade towards his torso. “I’m,” Elbow to the spine that makes him grunt. “Going,” Jon dances backwards out of range of a counter attack. “To,” the teen flips the blade in one hand and leaving the other the same. “Leave?” The hacker darts forward, kneeing him in the thigh.

“Everyone leaves,” he mutters as he stumbles backwards, furious at himself for tiring so fast. He shouldn’t be so tired and that shouldn’t have hurt so much.

The knives vanish but he keeps a wary eye on his soulmate, knowing the hacker is a bit of a trickster.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Jon informs him, watching him with the same expression he saw thousands of times while recovering from his broken bones. It’s one he has since come to realize is Jon wanting to help him, but not wanting to push him past his comfort level.

“There’s no reason for you to stay,” he states bitterly, thinking about everything wrong with himself.

“Isn’t there?” his soulmate asks softly, slowly walking towards him and telegraphing every movement as the younger man does so. “I can think of plenty of reasons to stay, but none to leave.”

His Vansha doesn’t lie, he thinks, yet. . .

Jon comes to stand just before him, one long fingered hand reaching to brush his hair out of his face, reminding him it’s time for another hair cut. That hand lingers on his skin, slowly dragging the back of knuckles down the scar tissue that makes up the skin on the right side.

“Silly man,” his Rowan murmurs, “why would I ever wish to chose someone else over my soulmate?”

“I’m not your only soulmate,” he bites out angrily. Remembering the problem that caused all this.

“You’re the one who counts.” Jon informs him quietly but firmly.

Swallowing hard, he stares into gray eyes turned amber fire, wanting to believe, but having such a hard time doing so.

“You’re mine. I’m a possessive man.” His soulmate informs him.

He can’t help the huff of laughter that bubbles up. He’s well aware of how possessive Jon can be.

“Let me take care of you, Alec, and trust that I am not leaving. Not now, not later.” Jon requests gently.

Closing his eyes, he nods slowly, turning his head to press a soft kiss to his Vansha’s knuckles. As far as he knows, Jon’s never lied to him. He just has to trust that when his soulmate says something, Jon means it.


	82. Affection and Caring

Jon's POV  
He stays still, watching as Alec processes what he said. Relief floods him when his soulmate kisses his knuckles.

"Did you see the bedroom?" He queries gently, still standing still.

"No," his Sansha replies, eyes still closed, "I just glanced in there long enough to notice you weren't in there."

"I got the massage oils out, and the warming pads, I was hoping you'd be amenable to one," he explains with a soft smile.

Slowly Alec’s eyes flicker open, studying him like he is something peculiar or different, a look he has gotten on numerous occasions from his spy.

Still he waits, not wanting to push because he is sure they are already on the edge of something going wonderfully right or horribly wrong. Personally, he wants right, and he’ll do whatever he has to in order to make sure that happens.

“I’d like that,” his Sansha slowly agrees.

Still smiling gently, he slips his hand down along the light scarring, along the shoulder, and down Alec’s arm to lightly grasp his soulmate’s hand.

“I think you forget: I knew first, far more than you appreciated, and _still wanted you_.” He comments quietly.

A thoughtful expression crosses his soulmate’s face. Almost as if considering a fact that was previously irrelevant or forgotten. Slowly, his Sansha’s lips curl upwards in a smirk before the hand he is holding tightens around his fingers tugging on his arm to pull him into a hug.

“Sometimes I do,” Alec murmurs in his ear. “Sometimes the past is louder.”

“Well,” he drawls, “anytime it’s louder, I’ll remind you it’s wrong.” He promises firmly.

His spy’s arms tighten around him.

He can feel the slight tremble go through his soulmate, and realizes he might have kneed Alec a bit harder than he thought. Of course, he was aiming at the side with the weakness in it, so that might be part of it too.

“Come on, hot bath, nice massage, relaxing dinner, how does that sound?” he suggests, voice turning playful as he nuzzles the spot just below his soulmate’s ear affectionately.

Chuckling, his Sansha just nods, letting go of the hug but holding his hand once more.

Heading to their room, he hums softly.

“Nothing Else Matters?” Alec queries as they enter the room, looking around and noticing the small changes.

“It’s a good song, besides think of the lyrics and apply them to us,” he replies with a snicker.

For a moment his Sansha looks like he is thinking about it before nodding in agreement, “I can see it.”

“I’m going to get a bath going, cinnamon or cedar?” he asks as he thinks of what scents he has for the bath supplies.

“Cedar,” Alec answers immediately.  

“Okay,” he nods, turning to press a gentle kiss to his soulmate’s jaw before letting go of the hand still holding his and heading in the bathroom. He turns on the water, clicks on the radio to the soft classical music he picked for the background, lights the candles, and drops some of the bath salts he got for muscle relaxing in the steadily filling tub.

He considers getting undressed, but decides against it. He’ll do that in a moment, or let Alec undress him since he knows his soulmate likes doing that sometimes just because it reminds his Sansha he’s fine with it, even enjoys it.

Returning to the room, he finds his spy pacing, lighting every candle as he passes it with only the slightest hesitation. He smiles warmly, knowing exactly how hard that is for the fire bug that got burned far worse than Alec ever expected.

“Bath’s almost ready,” he comments, drawing the older man’s attention to him.

“You’re still dressed,” his Sansha replies almost questioningly, closing the distance between them and lightly touching his shirt.

“I didn’t know if you’d rather undress me or not, so I figured I would see what your thoughts are.” He answers with a playful smile.

Something flashes across blue-green eyes almost faster than he can process. He’s spent months carefully observing his soulmate’s emotions and how they are displayed. Alec has a tendency not to say what he needs something or when he’s is concerned about something. So he’s made it one of hs talents to recognize issues through Alec’s body language. Apparently this is related to the fact there is still nothing sexual between them.

“You’re being silly,” he informs the older man lightly, “I’m not interested in sex. So the fact your body is _still healing_ , and we aren’t having sex doesn’t bother me. It’s alright if it bothers you because it’s something you’re not used to, but don’t worry about it bothering me, because I like us as we are. We’ll get to other things when we get there.”

“And if we never get there?” Alec’s voice is brittle, bitter, and just a bit scared.

“Then we never do. It has no bearing on whether or not I want to spend my life with you,” he answers honestly, hands lightly cupping his soulmate’s face. Switching to Scottish Gaelic and remembering advice his best friend gave him a while back, he continues, “You’re _my Alec, my love_ , we’ll figure out everything else out as we need to.”

The look in Alec’s eyes just about breaks his heart. It’s somewhere between stark disbelief and longing hope.

“Apparently had I accepted Aither’s bet about whether you realized it or not, I would have lost,” he mutters, earning him a questioning arched brow. “She said you probably didn’t realize that’s what my actions meant. She’s also the one who suggested a knife fight to keep your attention elsewhere while we talked, though I don’t think it went as she expected.”

Laughter bubbles forth, filling the air with the rich sound of mirth as his soulmate suddenly relaxes.

He nods, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yep, that’s going to be her response when I tell her she was right.”

“I forget how much you two talk sometimes,” Alec remarks when his spy finally stops laughing.

“Yeah, well, my best friend might be markless but she’s been in more relationships than me and has far better luck reading people.” He responds with a snicker. “So, bath now that we may have flooded our bathroom because we’re easily side-tracked?”

“Yes,” his Sansha replies softly, hands deftly unbuttoning his shirt.

He just smiles, watching the way blue-green eyes shift between the various shades as emotions play through them. Alec’s like his favorite code, one that is always changing and surprising him with new lines yet familiar in its patterns. He’s pretty sure he is never telling his soulmate that however because no, just not doing it.

He hums in enjoyment when long fingers brush against his skin, pushing his shirt off his shoulders so it falls to the floor.  There is almost a reverence when Alec’s hands trail downwards, slowly tracing the soulmarks to the top of his slacks before unfastening and pushing them down too. Slowly, the bigger man follows them, limbs a bit stiff and making him feel a tad bit bad for harming his soulmate, but that feeling is quickly replaced by the logic of a little physical discomfort that should hopefully be gone soon is better than a lot of mental anguish due to Alec’s mind trying to play tricks on him.

When his soulmate is done, he offers a hand to help Alec stand up. He’s thankful when it’s accepted because sometimes he worries the spy’s pride will get between accepting help and not.

“My turn,” he states softly, hands coming up to tug the dark shirt out of his Sansha’s jeans.

If Alec’s touch almost has reverence to it, his does fully. Each of the scars reminds him how close he was to not having his Sansha. He knows pain and due to extensive research while Alec was originally healing, he understands what each of the marks is, even without having to be told. Like he said earlier, he knows far more than his soulmate appreciates.

Once they are equally bare, he leads the older man into the bathroom, surprised to find it is near the top but not overflowing, although he still turns the water off and drains a small portion of it so they can get in.

He let's his soulmate decide how they are going to be situated, which leads to him getting in second, his smaller frame tucking between Alec's legs and tugged back against Sansha's muscular chest.

"What brought on this?" Alec queries against his ear, arms wrapping around him and holding him tight.

He snuggles in, liking the way they fit together and replies, "I wanted to get any pain our conversation was going to cause out of the way before tomorrow," he pauses, twisting around. "I'd rather have a pleasant day for you to remember."

That seems to surprise his soulmate, whether it's surprising because he wants Sansha to have a good birthday or that he remembered, he doesn't know.

Blue-green eyes crinkle in warmth.

He twists back around, straightening his back and stretching out.

They spend a while just relaxing, spending the time in companionable silence. Eventually the water starts to cool down and he asks, "Refill or shower?"

For a moment his Sansha thinks about it, then answers, "Shower before I fall asleep."

Chuckling, he folds his legs up to scoot forward and pull the plug. Carefully, he shifts to his knees before standing and closing the stall door so he can turn the water back on. He laughs when strong arms wrap around him, pulling him flush once more against his soulmate's chest.

"Take turns washing each other?" Alec queries, placing a feathery kiss behind his ear.

"Yes," he answers still laughing.

"Perfect," his soulmate agrees.

Without leaving his soulmate’s grasp, he grabs the flannel and soap, sticking with the cedar scent, and gets it all nice and sudsy.

Turning in Alec’s arms, he grins mischievously as he wraps his own arms around the bigger man and starts with his soulmate’s back.

Playfully, his spy nips at his lower lip, making a show of letting go and turning around so he can see what he’s doing.

Laughter fills the air as the two of them take their time washing the other, occasionally tickling and otherwise just goofing off. He enjoys washing his Sansha’s hair, the way the sardonyx locks curl against his fingers, the waves normally brushed out or tamed by keeping it short. Alec’s fingers dance over his skin, tracing the rowan that seems to have taken up more of his torso. Now branching up on his shoulder as much as it does his chest and back. The storm cloud is still red and angry, something both of them avoid touching on either of their bodies, but it’s not as bad as it once was. He can’t stop laughing as his Sansha makes faces at him, playing with the tip his nose, and even raspberring his stomach.

“Which one of us is the teen?” he asks playfully, hip bumping his soulmate.

“I’m enjoying it while it lasts?” Alec replies, eyes gleaming.

He just laughs.

Things get a little more sober when he turns the water off, grabbing the towel closest to the shower to softly dry his soulmate off.

Alec’s eyes still gleam, but it’s not amusement filling them, it’s something much deeper.

He’d say love but he’s not going to put a name to it until his Sansha does. Just because he loves Alec, doesn’t mean that his soulmate feels the same, and that’s alright because Alec stayed when no one else in his life did.

The towel ends up on the floor when his spy presses their lips together softly, just about stealing his breath away.

“I’m very happy you like kissing,” Alec murmurs against his lips.

“It’s not inherently sexual,” he replies, then clarifies. “At least I’ve never seen anything inherently sexual about them.”

His soulmate chuckles, kissing him again, long and slow.

“They’re intimate,” he states breathlessly. “Sharing breath, tasting the other in one of the most personal ways.”

Tilting his head back and to the side, his Sansha seems to think about it before nodding slowly in agreement and kissing him again.

“I’m getting you all wet again,” he murmurs.

“I don’t care,” Alec replies.

He just smiles, wrapping his arms around his soulmate and hugging the older man close as his Sansha kisses him again.

He really does like kissing and cuddling, just touching each other. It’s one of things he loves doing whenever they have a quiet night to just be. He knows every centimeter of his soulmate’s body, every mark, every scar, even the tattoo on the shoulder that was done with invisible ink. That was a fun one to figure out. It took him hours to do without using a black light.

“Ready for the massage?” he queries when they break part.

“Yes,” Alec agrees hesitantly, eyes warm and satisfied.

“Then let's finishing drying off,” he suggests with a chuckle.

“If you insist,” his spy pouts jokingly.

Tapping the tip of the older man’s nose, he replies, “I do.”

“Good, I’m keeping you.” Alec remarks sassily.

He just laughs, “That’s fine. I’m planning on keeping you.”

Grabbing the extra towel, his Sansha dries him off before letting him finish what he started. Afterwards he hangs both towels back up even though he will probably wash them rather than use them over.

Following Alec into the bedroom, he motions for his soulmate to get comfy while he grabs the cedar scented oil to warm between his hands before he start on his Sansha’s feet, taking his time working his way up each leg equally to get all the knots and tension out. He bypassess the junction of the thighs and his soulmate’s cock before working his way up a toned chest that’s been slowly regaining the muscle lost during recovery. He’s well aware it’s not going as fast as his spy wants, but that’s to be expected after such a nasty injury. He takes his time tracing the soulmarks as he goes, smiling softly at what brought him Alec, this mark that mirrors on their skin, well, shape anyway, size wise his soulmark is huge in comparison. Something he’s wondered about in the past but shrugs off as unimportant, he has his Sansha. Upwards he goes, hand running over skin both textured and smooth, working out every tight spot and slowly getting his spy to relax, down one arm, then over to the other.

Alec’s just about asleep when he murmurs, “Roll.”

Making noises of annoyance, the older man does so, presenting him with a lovely back to work on next. He ends up humming again, still Metallica, as he continues to work his way downwards. Frowning in concentration when he finds a particularly nasty bruise forming across his soulmate’s back. It’s too low for it to have been from when he stuck across Alec’s back.

“I got in the middle of a brawl today, the recruit who started it is seeing Raskova to get his jaw put back in place,” his soulmate tells him drowsily.

“Then I wanted to spar,” he mutters, feeling bad again for physical pain he caused, he doesn’t like causing Alec pain.

Popping his back, his Sansha twists partly around, replying, “Then you wanted to talk to me without it being stressful. I understood the motivation behind a good fight as a way to communicate, less time to overthink when avoiding a knife.” A small smile pulls at the corner of his spy’s lips. “I think you may have ruined that shirt however,” the older man tells him before twisting back around to lie down.

Shrugging even though Alec can’t see it, he responds, “Probably, I wanted to get the shirt but not you, just so your focus would be on the knives.”

“You accomplished that goal,” his spy mumbles. “I was curious where you learned to fight.”

He blushes, happy his Sansha is facing away as he mutters, “I hacked your cameras at the barracks and watched you. Some of it was also from mum and da. She said anyone with our build needed to know how to defend ourselves from bigger people. You’re hard to spar against ‘cause I don’t know what to expect, but at the same time I remember some of what you did and the tells that go with the motions from watching you train with the older members of your unit.”

Finishing the massage, he grabs the heating pad and carefully arranges it between two blankets before covering his soulmate up.

Getting off the bed, he shuts off all the lights, does a quick sweep of their home to make sure the windows are buzzing and the alarm is armed before crawling into bed next to Alec.

He snuggles close, pressing a kiss to his soulmate’s shoulder and murmuring, “Sleep well, Alec, happy birthday.”

Alec’s head turns towards him, pressing a kiss to his temple and the arm he is laying against snaking out from under him to pull him closer, laying heavy across his back. “Good night Jon, sweet dreams.”


	83. Hard to Believe

Alec’s POV  
When he wakes up, he’s warm and relaxed in a way he’s not used to being. Except that’s not quite true anymore. Nowadays it’s far more common for him to wake up feeling relaxed, body warm, and muscles knot free. 

Jon has a tendency to take care of him, and not because it’s expected of the teen but because the hacker honestly wants to. It confuses him. Culture tends to teach that men have to be alpha personality and if one isn’t an alpha personality, then they have to be feminine. Jon is neither an alpha personality nor feminine, yet he is caring and supportive. There is a core of steel in his younger soulmate that is marvelous to behold. 

Curling closer to his Rowan, he tucks his nose in dark curls and just breathes for a little bit. 

He can’t remember just cuddling with James to cuddle. He can’t remember them taking care of each other except to stitch up wounds in the field or pull the other out of cocked up situations. They saw each other’s soulmarks during a mission where both of them managed to get shot and need to do some field fixing, and ended up in bed together. James was his but he’s not all that sure that his Storm felt the same way about him. Their relationship was a whirlwind, all about sex and fighting and competing. Maybe that’s why they weren’t as close as he thought.

He tries to suppress the tremble that races through his body but according to the small, questioning noise Jon makes as his hacker stirs, he fails. 

“Go back to sleep, Vansha,” he murmurs, arm shifting so he can brush his hand lightly over his soulmate’s skin in what he hopes is a soothing manner.

There is a soft grumble and then the steady breathing that signifies that Jon has gone back to sleep, which is rare.

He’s having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea that Jon loves him. Why does the hacker think that? Is there some sort of confusion going on? He doesn’t think so, but he thought James loved him and look where that got him: nearly dead. Jon though, is a totally different breed. 

The question isn’t so much does Jon love him, as it is does he love Jon? 

_Yes._ He immediately thinks. _Jon’s his._

He’s probably a lot more possessive than the hacker, he just worries about it coming to the surface too much and ruining everything he has with his Rowan. At the same time, he’s fairly sure that his possessive nature doesn’t bother his hacker. He also worries about Jon sometimes, because of his soulmate’s willingness to help people and defuse situations with words. 

Today is his thirty-third birthday. Sure, it’s only two am because they ended up sleeping probably longer than the hacker planned but that’s not the point. It’s his second birthday with Jon. Last year his hacker had invited what Jon calls his unofficial family to celebrate. He wonders if that is on the agenda for today as well. 

Pressure in his bladder forces him to untangle his body from Vansha so he can slip from the bed and head to the en suite.

A few minutes later, he’s standing in front of the mirror, head tilted to the side as he tries to figure out what Jon sees when his hacker looks at him.

When slender arms wrap around his waist, head coming to rest on his shoulder, the only thing that keeps him from attacking is years of control.

“Why are you staring at that mirror like it’s your enemy?” Jon queries lightly nuzzling the side of his neck.

Sighing, because he doesn’t want to admit he doesn’t think he looks anything like his Vansha thinks he does in the drawings. Despite that, he answers, “I don’t see what you see in me.”

A warm smile curls the younger man’s lips, head tilting slightly in speculation. 

“What I see?” his Rowan repeats. 

“Yes,” he replies, trying not to snarl. 

“I see my soulmate.” Jon states softly. Vansha then begins to list things off, voice sure and affectionate, “I see a man who's dealt with the kraken and lived to tell the tale. I see a man who made the best of the situation he found himself in, even if that best wasn’t legal. I see a handsome man who often worries about the scars on his skin and in his mind.” Something changes in the younger man’s tone, “I see someone who’s felt the same sort of loss as I have. I see someone who knows pain but refuses to let that stop him. I see a man capable of great loyalty who’s afraid to hope or to bond with anyone because of how much it hurts when they leave. I see someone who’s closest friends are also employees but he will help them as he can, because they would do the same for him.” Satisfaction and fierce belief fills Jon’s voice, “I see my wonderful soulmate.”

He meets the younger man’s eyes in the mirror. He’s having such a hard time believing and yet there is honesty in the gray-green gaze that meets his, causing him to swallow hard in hopeful disbelief. 

“As for what I see physically,” the teenager continues, “I see someone whose body has gone through hell yet is recovering and slowly returning to previous strength. I see someone who is determined and gentle.” 

Jon lifts each of his hands, guiding them towards his shoulder to kiss the knuckles. “I see someone who knows how to fight. I see tawny skin I love to touch. I see expressive eyes that vary between shades of blue, green, and both. I see soulmarks that remind me how lucky I am to have met you and that you lived. I see supple lips that can curve in the warmest smile or the darkest scowl. I see strength and endurance. _I see you_.”

Turning, he pulls his hacker close, simply holding the teenager, arms wrapped around the smaller frame as if he never wants to let go. 

_“Jon,”_ he whispers, not sure what to say.

This is another difference between Jon and James. James would have distracted him with sex, maybe some expensive alcohol, but they definitely wouldn’t have discussed what’s wrong. Whatever was wrong would be stewed on until an explosion happened. Normally quite literally, with him fucking up someone else’s day by blowing something sky high. It doesn’t work like that with Jon who approaches the topic and makes sure they discuss it in some manner. He isn’t really given too much time to stew because his Vansha doesn’t like him feeling emotionally compromised.

If James showed up tomorrow, would he leave with his fellow spy? _No._

He blinks, wondering when he lost the drive to get his first soulmate back. When did it become more important to stay with his Rowan rather than leave with his Storm? He can’t pinpoint exactly when, he just knows it’s a fact. The dream and hope he wanted most for nine years, that he’s spent the last two years getting over has faded. It’s no longer the most important thing in his life. 

Pressing his lips to Jon’s temple, he closes his eyes and just keeps thinking while they stand there wrapped in each other. 

“Come lay back down for a little bit.” His Vansha remarks, “It’s a little after two am, cause I overslept, but I’m still a bit tired.”

He nods slightly, enough to let his soulmate know he agrees with that plan even though he’s not ready to move yet which Jon seems okay with. 

When they finally do move, he realizes how cold he’s getting and quickly gets under the blankets to snuggle with his hacker. “What are you thinking about for dinner?”

“Loaded chips,” the teen promptly answers. “You seem to like those more than anything else I know how to cook, so I thought that would be a good meal.”

He laughs, smiling because Jon doesn’t do a lot of cooking. So those chips are about the only thing the younger man can manage to cook without burning, except breakfast. He can still remember Jon making that massive breakfast last year at Valentin’s triad home. That was good food. “That’s perfect.” He comments.

He's actually surprised that Jon went back to sleep. In the last eighteen months it has been very rare for the teen to wake up and then fall back asleep immediately. The only time he can actually remember that happening was when his soulmate was sick the week following his discovery that they are soulmates. He hopes that's not the case here. 

That's one thing the three of them have in common, none of them get sick with any sort of regularity. Although, as spies James and him do get injured a lot more than their bodies appreciate. 

Physically Jon is different from them too. The hacker is reed like, lithe, all fine lines and hidden strength. The teen doesn't look like he'd be able to support his body weight, and yet his Vansha did repeatedly. Often moving him with little to no assistance or catching him when his limbs give out.

They spend probably another hour cuddled together on the bed before his hacker's eyes flick open and he stretches, body stretching along his, reminding him they're still naked.

He used to be a lot more comfortable in his skin, but nowadays he feels uncomfortable without something covering the scars. Jon though, the teen's very fond of his skin, enjoys spending hours just touching him. It's remarkable and slowly he's getting past feeling so insecure. For some reason he has a hard time understanding his Vansha wants him. 

According to Jon he's still healing but he doesn't think that's it. He's sure there is something wrong with him, that he's defective in some way. But maybe Jon's right, so far his hacker has been right about almost everything medically regarding him.

A light nip to his shoulder draws him out of his mind, “You’re overthinking, Alec-love,” Jon declares in Scottish Gaelic sleepily. “I need to stop exhausting myself fretting,” the teen mumbles, and he feels guilty because he knows the entire reason his soulmate has been fretting is him.

His arms tighten around the smaller man and he presses a kiss to the closest temple in apology. 

“Are you hungry?” Vansha queries, meeting his gaze with green-amber eyes.

He enjoys the varying colors his soulmate’s eyes change between.

Stretching again, Jon wiggles out of his grasp and rolls off the bed. 

He laughs when the teen grabs one of his shirts first, eyeing it for moment before shrugging it on. They might be the same height but he’s got a wider build so while it’s the right length it sort of drapes over him. 

“I’m going to go make dinner, come join me when you’re ready,” his hacker tells him, stopping beside the bed to lean in and kiss him. 

He kisses back, making little frustrated noises when he doesn’t have any sort of reaction even though he thinks he should. 

Nipping at his bottom lip, Jon warmly tells him, “Stop that. It will happen when it happens, you stressing about it isn’t going to make it happen any sooner. Actually, it might make it take even _longer_ to happen.”

He freezes, eyes widening as he considers that statement. So by thinking about the fact he hasn’t gotten hard since James dropped him, he might actually be keeping it from happening? Is that right? How would that work? Is it the same theory as when he keeps going even when he’s in so much pain he shouldn’t be able to function but he is able to because his mind wills it? Fuck. So he really needs to stop thinking that something is wrong, at which point he should start working right again. Even if Jon’s not currently interested, he still wants to be ready for whenever it happens.

He can do that. He’s sure he can. It’s just going to be hard, because there is still that little voice in the back of his mind that says it’s something more. That little voice which keeps telling him he’s not good enough for Jon. But his Vansha says otherwise. Even loves him. 

_Jon loves him._

How is that even possible? He thought James loved him once, before everything happened, but now he wonders if that was real. 

_Yes,_ his mind tells him, James loved him once, only they never managed to keep it going. Maybe all the time apart because of their jobs is why his Storm turned against him. He doesn’t know. All he knows is how much being told James died had burned through him, left him feeling an ache deep in his chest and a need for revenge. The shock and hope that had filled him when James greeted him in the statue park, gloriously _alive._ He just knows how much it hurt to come face to face with the man he wanted more than anyone else and to be rejected. How much he wanted to die when he was dropped off that satellite. He knows the urge to kill himself and the intense desire to protect the seemingly helpless teenager who appeared to be his guardian. At that point he didn’t understand how important Jon was going to be. He just knew that he had to protect the young man. It would be months before he would discover why he felt that way, weeks before he would understand that when his hacker said something, Jon meant it. Weeks before he understood that his Vansha would rather be silent to lie to him. Yet not all silences were to avoid answering questions or lying. Some were to just enjoy each other’s company without having to fill the air with sound.

Throwing the blankets off, he shakes his head, shoving the words away so he can focus on the here and now. 

His Vansha is making him dinner, sure it’s more like a really early breakfast but it doesn’t matter, Jon’s doing it just for him. The teenager is making something he enjoys, because he really does like the chips smothered in cheese, bacon, and salsa. 

Grabbing a pair of pajama bottoms, he pulls them on before reaching for the robe. He hesitates for a moment, fingers curling inwards. Jon likes looking at him, touching him. He’s not cold. The kitchen is even warmer. 

Nodding slowly, he swallows and turns away. 

He can easily remember a time when he would have strutted around without anything on and it wouldn’t have bothered him. Now, he takes a deep breath. Now he has Jon, who doesn’t mind him strutting around with nothing on. His Vansha, whose eyes follow him around, warmth he’s not used to seeing pointed at him lighting them. He’s bothered by his skin because he doesn’t want his hacker to be bothered, but the teen isn’t. 

Heading downstairs, he finds Jon dancing in the kitchen to American rock and roll while slicing up the potatoes for their chips. 

“Hi,” Jon says, lips curled in a wide smile.

“Hello,” he replies, smirking at the possessive feeling he gets seeing his Vansha wearing nothing but his shirt. 

Finishing the potato, his Rowan walks over to him, arms looping around his waist, nose lightly running along the edge of his jaw, stopping when the younger man’s mouth is by his ear to whisper, “Happy birthday, Alec.”

He wraps his arms around his soulmate and pulls them closer together, closing the minuscule space between them. “Thank you.” 

He’s fairly sure that Jon knows that he is thankful for more than just the birthday wishes. He just has to make sure he shows everything he’s thankful for. It’s probably going to be the best birthday he’s had since coming to Russia eleven years ago. All because of a rowan on his ruined skin and the person it stood for.


	84. Working Together

Alec’s POV  
In the three months since his birthday, he has found himself wandering around their house a bit more often without anything on except his pajama bottoms or jeans. Today though, today he is wearing combat gear and currently arming himself. He’s going to be working with a few younger recruits on a retrieval job. What are they retrieving? A pair of teenagers and their mother who were taken for ransom. Even after the ransom was paid, the kidnappers demanded more money.

Jon’s already got the family’s money back and collected the fee for their services, also confirmed where the two teens and woman were being held and that they are still alive.

He's going to deal with the threats while the four recruits get the hostages to safety. It’s not a plan that Jon is particularly happy about since it leaves him without backup but it’s one that the hacker has agreed to. With one stipulation: he had to wear the earwig and take instructions when given them.

He agreed for two reasons. First it will give him a chance to work with Jon in the field. So far only Dayesi and Bogdan have done so. Bogdan grumbled about having a kid younger than him giving orders but had followed them and had gotten out without a scratch. A remarkable feat considering he expected there to be at least two spots where fights would break out and yet Jon had guided his second around them. Dayesi had annoyed Petya and declared mischievously that Jon left her alone except to tell her where dangers were and what sort they were if known. The second reason is he wants to know how well they can work together outside of planning and plotting.

“If you get hurt, I am skinning whoever does it,” Jon informs him as his Vansha’s eyes sweep over him, a small smile playing at the younger man’s lips when he recognizes the weapon harness.

“Some reason I believe that,” he replies almost playfully, the adrenaline and excitement he feels running a job rushing through him.

Long fingers brush against his jaw for a breath, just enough to send electricity flaring through his system, “Be safe.”

“Always,” he responds with a nod.

Snorting, the teenager mutters, “Please remember I have seen your records.”

Snickering, because he knows exactly what his Vansh is talking about. He nods one more time before heading out to the motorcycle that had appeared in their garage the day after his birthday. He’s moderately sure it’s a gift from his soulmate because of the fact it is almost the exact same as the motorcycle he lost, only faster with a few handy tricks that it previously didn’t have, probably tricks no one else on the market has right now.

A moment later he is climbing on and on his way, racing through the streets to the barracks where he plans to meet up with the others.

The barracks. He smirks. The layout design for them was Jon’s idea. They made them into a flat complex so they are completely legal since only the military is supposed to have actual barracks. Some of new recruits used to be military, and their adjustment was made easier by the fact they have some of the same patterns working for him. However the hazing and the using younger members to satisfy sexual desire are not allowed. Jon alerted him to two of the recruits from the last batch who were trying to do that with three of the younger ones in this batch.

He decided to drive the lesson home by beating the living fuck out of them to the point where they are damned near crippled before handing them over to Raskova to deal with. They won’t get the retirement package that his hacker helped him design and put into place after he came up with the idea with his other three.

The women are left alone because of Dayesi and Ana, the two strongest and deadliest women in the bunch who made that point when some of the male recruits made the mistake of treating one of the girls disrespectfully. Between the two women, the recruits who made that mistake found their life becoming hell. Ana helps train the newbies, and she doesn’t tolerate sass. She is also in charge of the women.

Coming to a stop, he brings himself back to the present, pleased to see the four waiting with the two vehicles they’re taking. He’ll be on the motorcycle. The recruits have two armored cars which Jon had suggested some changes to in order to improve them. After seeing how well the younger man was able to improve the piece of shit Dmitri’s drives, he was more than willing to do so. To that end, his hacker had found several teenagers and two adults to come work for him in a small repair shop that they bought out after the previous owner wanted to retire.

“Ready?” he demands, meeting each of their eyes.

“Sir!” they chorus.

“Goal?” he questions, not looking at any one of them in particular, wishing to see who responds first.

“Retrieve the three hostages without getting them killed,” Maxim Pavlovich Tsyrinsky answers promptly.

“Not get our fool heads shot,” Yakov Andreevich Papanov replies a moment later.

“Avoid anything stupid and causing problems that have to be cleaned up by you,” Yeremey Ilyich Veselov responds.

Fyodor Savelievich Leshev just shrugs, “They covered them.”

He snickers because it sounds like Dayesi gave the second order and Jon the third. “Let’s go,” he orders.

Getting into the vehicles, he hears the earwig click on, _’Can each of you hear me?’_

 _’Sir!’_ is chorused by the other four, making him chuckle.

“I can hear you, Q,” he replies deciding to use Jon’s hacker handle as the base name. Although he finds it amusing it is also what the quartermaster of MI6 goes by.

 _‘Good,’_ Jon replies quickly, before switching into professional mode and guiding them through traffic to their targeted location.

When they get there, his Vansha happily mentions that there is a camera system in place. Just a few minutes later Jon has hacked it and gives them all the information the hacker can on the people and layout. He's surprised at how fast his soulmate broke into the system. None of the previous hackers he has worked with were that fast and he used to work with a whole room of them.

The four go one direction, while he goes the other, pulling his gun and making sure the suppressor is on it to make the shots as quiet as possible.

He uses his senses to listen for threats as well as listening to his Vansha.

Going around a corner, he quickly brings the gun up in order to shoot two pacing sentries between the eyes. The soft thud of his gun no louder than his targets bodies hitting the wall and sliding down. Neither noise is loud enough to alert others of his approach.

 _’There is a room with three men in it at the end of the hall, as all three have guns, be safe,’_ Jon tells him. After a brief pause, his Vansha tells him, ’ _The other four can’t hear our conversation’_

He chuckles, “Any reason for that?”

 _’It’s not their business?’_ His Vansha replies sassily.

“Good reason,” he comments, then queries, “Where are they positioned?”

 _’Two behind the door playing cards, third across the room watching a TV, it appears to be a break room of sorts. You’ll have line of sight immediately to the one watching TV.’_ Jon answers.

He ghosts to the door, carefully opening it with his gun at the ready. Almost before he’s in the door, he has the first target in his line of sight and a bullet to the back of the man’s head before darting backwards, jerking the door so it slams shut, and firing off two more rounds as the other two come into sight,.

 _’Interesting trick,’_ his soulmate tells him, and he can hear the worry in the teenager’s voice.

“I’m fine,” he remarks, looking around for the camera and doing a small circle so Jon can see nothing has touched him.

 _’I know.’_ His Vansha comments almost bashfully, _’I just didn’t expect you to go backwards like that. Back through the door maybe, or to the other side, but not backwards.’_

“I knew they wouldn’t expect it,” he replies.

 _’I’ll keep it in mind for later,’_ Jon remarks, and he is sure the teen is adding it to tricks known for defense. _’The door across the hall leads to a stairwell that goes up. There are six people on the next floor, including the one who started this entire mess. He’s the only one without a weapon. It’s an open room. Two of them are near the door arguing about the match they are watching. There is one watching the door. The last two with weapons are speaking with their boss.’_

“Alternate entrances?” he asks curiously.

 _‘Not that I can see. The vents and windows are all grated with shiny and probably new looking bolts, so no sneaking in that way. There isn’t a chimney. Someone was sort of smart when they designed the room. ’_  Q answers.

He smirks, already having an idea what to do, “Describe the room layout.”

Quickly and thoroughly, his soulmate does just that.

“Grenades it is,” he comments happily. He loves blowing things up. Tucking the gun away, he pulls them out of the pouches on his belt before carefully opening the door, eyes scanning for traps that this area without a camera can see. He’s just happy there isn’t a sentry there. They probably think they don’t need one. Cautiously he heads up the steps, pulling the pins at the earliest possible moment and tossing at the last just so he knows they wouldn’t have time to dive behind anything.

“Grenade!” someone shouts as the first explodes, the second just moments after.

Screams rip through the air, and he tugs his guns out, using the ones without the suppressor as he finishes going up the steps. Jon's tendency to understand spacing and distance means he knows right where the people are even before he hits the top and is firing as he does so. Leaving the five guards dead, one of which is a mercy killing since the man's legs were blown off.

“I’ll pay you double whatever you’re getting!” The target offers, terror very clear in his voice.

“Sorry, I keep my contracts, and your type annoy me,” he responds before planting a bullet between the man’s eyes. “Have the other four reported in yet?”

 _’In the vehicles and on their way to the meet location,’_ Jon answers. _’They were hesitant about leaving before you, but I ordered them to follow the plan.’_

“Good choice, anyone left that needs shot?” he asks as he checks the room, finding a computer in the corner that’s not turned on. “Want me to boot this up?”

 _’You’re the last living thing in the building according to the cameras and satellite I borrowed. Yes please. Then I can take any information it might have to go through later.’_ Q agrees happily.

He spends a few minutes doing just that, rolling his eyes because of how slow the computer is and chuckling when he remembers that this one is no slower than the fastest ones he used to work with.

“I think you’ve spoiled me on the computer speed,” he comments once the teenager is in the system and he can see the files flying by the way the coding is changing before his eyes.

 _’Da always said use the best tools you got,’_ Jon comments absently. _’Wait, that was pops.’_

“Either way, sound advice,” he replies, turning to leave the room. “I’m heading to the meeting, then I will be home, I’ll leave the earwig in so you can hear.”

 _’Thank you,’_ his Vansha replies distractedly.

He knows his soulmate, the teen will have the codes going on one screen while watching his progress on another. Now it’s time to finish this up so he can go home. He likes that, he now has somewhere he considers home. It’s nice.


	85. 20th Birthday (Part I)

Jon's POV  
The sound of their tray being set on the night stand wakes him up as the scent of fresh tea, fruit pancakes, and steaming ham fills his senses. Stretching lazily in bed against the soft sheets, he slowly opens his eyes to find Alec perched on the edge of the bed next to him.

"Vanyushka," his soulmate murmurs, long fingers brushing his hair out of his face.

Smiling, he stretches again, shifting a bit closer to his love, "Glasses?" he mumbles, looking at the blurry shape beside him.

A moment later they are pressed to his face, and everything becomes clear again.

He happily hums, "Sashenka," sitting up to press a light kiss to Alec's jaw since it's the first thing he can reach.

Strong arms wrap around him, tugging him close as his love presses their lips together in a demanding kiss. He smiles, pressing into it. It’s not uncommon for his soulmate to kiss, stroke and touch his body. He wishes that Alec was comfortable letting him return the favor because he would love to just run his hands over every centimeter, but he accepted his love's limits long ago.

"Hungry?" Alec inquires, pressing their lips together.

"Ghmmmm, yes," he answers, "Breakfast is good. Something more is good too."

A playful smile curves Sansha's lips, as the older man murmurs against his temple, "Something more hmmm? Let's start with these pancakes. I have today planned, including cuddle time, lunch with the family, a full body massage, dinner for two, followed by a night in."

He smiles back, "I like that plan."

"Good," Alec murmurs, shifting to grab the tray, "Let me."

Chuckling, he scoots around on the bed in order to situate himself by the headboard.

"You're joining me right?" he queries, tipping his head and eyeing the hot tea.

That tea is the first thing Alec offers him, "Yes, I knew you'd want me too."

He sips at the tea, enjoying the way it feels and tastes as Alec gets comfortable next to him. Days like this where they are just quietly intimate are the best. They mean a great deal to him, particularly since he knows it's not something that his soulmate is comfortable with naturally. His Sansha will deny being romantic until the day he dies, but a lot of that comes from being a double-o and spy for so long with certain behaviors considered weak.

When he is done with the tea, Alec takes the cup back, setting it aside before cutting a piece of pancake to offer to him, that playful smile still firmly in place.

"Smells perfect," he remarks quietly as he sniff it right before eating the bite. "Yum," he hums happily, "That's good. Mixed berry and cream cheese, fluffy pancakes. You spoil me."

His love smiles at him. "You should be spoiled."

He smiles when he notices the second fork sitting next to the plate, snagging it, he slices a piece of ham to offer his love. They take their time eating, while he ends up with the bulk of the food, he makes sure to feed Alec at least one bite for every three he takes. When the food is gone, Sansha makes sure all the dishes are on the tray on the stand before curling up around him.

Sighing contently, he snuggles into Alec's firm body, hand lightly running over the thin shirt covering his soulmate's body. Alec's arms wrap around him, hands steadily and firmly stroking him from shoulder to hip and back up again until he finds himself drifting back off to sleep despite the fact he just woke up.

He doesn't know how long he drowses in his love's arms before Alec murmurs, "Time to get up, I have made arrangements for us to visit with Valentin and his triad for a while before lunch."

"I'm comfy," he mutters, eyes still mostly closed.

Nuzzling the top of his head, Alec presses light kisses across his temples and forehead, "You know you enjoy spending time with them."

"I do," he mumbles, "I enjoy cuddling with you more."

For a moment his love's arms tighten around him, before slowly releasing along with the breath that Alec is almost holding. "Jon."

Without opening his eyes he stretches a lot like a cat, rolling his spine and stretching it out. His joints pop as he does so, loosening up. "I'm awake," he murmurs, slowly opening his eyes to look up at his lover. "Dress code or however I want?"

"However you want," Alec answers, lips quirking in a smile.

Stretching upwards a bit, he presses their lips together in a soft chaste kiss, agreeing, "Good."

A moment later he slides away, getting out of bed and heading to the closet to decide what sort of clothes he wants to go with. Something comfy but warm. It's autumn after all, and the weather can go from comfortable to cold in a flash.

Chuckling, Alec joins him, grabbing a pair of tight black jeans, dark green shirt, and heavy coat. He licks his lips as he appreciates exactly how those jeans frame his love's assets and the shirt pulls across muscles.

Once they are dressed, he follows Alec from the bedroom, through the house to the one-time spy's car. He knows that Alec prefers faster vehicles but so far his soulmate hasn't reacquired any to use. Instead Alec has selected rather bland and safe vehicles, still nice but not flashy.

The ride to his father's triad home is quiet, comfortably warm and peaceful. He's always thankful that they can sit together like this. So many people feel the urge to fill everything with mindless chatter.

When they reach the house, they park in the driveway before walking up to the door. They have barely stepped onto the stoop when Ekatrina has thrown the door open, reaching out to pull him into a tight hug before beaming at Alec. It still surprises him how easily she accepted him.

"Isha!" she exclaims happily, "I'm so happy you made it."

Replying in Russian, he states, "Hello Eketrina, thank you for inviting me."

She gives him another hug before stepping back, hands still resting on his forearms. "Come in, come in." Her attention then turns to his soulmate as she murmurs, "You're looking well, Aleksei." She's hesitant on Alec's 'name', still unsure of if she should be using his first name or not. It's considered an intimate action, to use someone's given name, and she's still not certain of their relation.

"Hello Eketrina," his soulmate responds with the hints of a smile.

The three of them head inside, immediately there is a happy squeal as his youngest sister comes sprinting over, small body just knocking him over with the force of her throwing herself at him.

"Hello Elena," he greets the young girl, hugging her close before passing her to his soulmate who is a little less enthusiastic, but more because he knows Alec is worried one of these days she will notice the scars and have problems with them. "Are Evgeniya and Maksim home too?"

Nodding, Ekatrina answers, "They are, both wanted to be here for it. I think Maks is in his room and Enyasha is in the kitchen, she was making a cake for you."

He ducks his head, smiling warmly if a bit bashfully. He hadn't expected a cake from them. He hadn't expected anything from them.

"I'm sure Maks will be down shortly, you can go say hello to Enyasha if you'd like. I have lunch in the oven already, it should be done on time," Ekatrina tells them, eyes repeatedly flickering to Alec.

"Okay," he responds, heading to the kitchen and leaving his soulmate with his step-mum and half-sister.

He can hear Elena chattering at Alec as he walks away, telling the spy all about the people she met in the market the last time they went and the other children she had met during children's services at church.

When he reaches the kitchen, he calls out, "Hello Eva," before he goes through the door in order to make sure he doesn't startle her.

Immediately, the teen turns the flame down on the stove, coming over to give him a hug as she replies, "Jon." Of their family, she's the only one who calls him that regularly. The rest insist on Ivan or one of the variations therein. Although Yevgeny does try to remember, it just doesn’t work most the time.

"How are you?" He queries giving her a quick hug back and noticing she's grown at least a little bit more since she is almost as tall as his shoulder now.

Smiling, she returns to what she was doing, which looks nothing like a cake to him, "Good, I'm good. My first soulmark manifested." She quickly pulls her sleeve up, rolling her left arm so he can see. "I'm right handed, so I'm not sure why it's on the left." Her mark reminds him of a pile of coffee beans.

It's a well known fact that the dominate side is always the first person met and possibly the more important relationship, so he gets her confusion.

"Maybe your other is still in pre-puberty?" He suggests, leaning against the counter.

Frowning, she nods, "Maybe, but what if they are dead instead and I only have one soulmate like you?"

Chuckling, he asks, "Is there something wrong with that? Your parents are soulmates but my father belongs to their triad."

Immediately she brightens up, nodding happily at that thought.

"So what are you making?" He queries, motioning to the stove.

"American banana pudding," she answers promptly, "According to my pen pal, it can be used to make quick banana cream pie and I want to see if it works. She even sent the box to me to use."

He nods, not knowing if it can be or not, he's not really interested in pudding of that type, mostly called custard in London. He avoids it most the time because the texture is weird. "Good luck," he tells her, trying for encouraging.

She nods but doesn't get a chance to say anything before her father, Yevgeny is there, far louder and boisterous than he's used to, "Ivan! It's good to see that Aleksei managed to get you here! I was sure you'd try and avoid your own birthday celebration."

"Hello, Yevgeny," he replies calmly, making sure not to flinch at how loud the older man is. He's happy he was so easily accepted, even if it still surprises him, but he's still not used to their personalities.

Maks is there a moment later, slender fingers wrapping around his wrist and tugging him from the kitchen. He chuckles, giving a small wave to the other two as he follows the teen upstairs.

"I want to give you your present away from everyone else," his stepbrother states, a blush covering his skin.

"Okay," he replies, thinking he has said that a lot since getting here and wanting to go rejoin Alec because he is curious how his soulmate is fairing. Alec doesn't do the best with loud noises.

In his younger stepbrother's room, the younger man shoves him towards the bed while heading towards the closet. A moment later, the pre-teen returns to him, shoving a messily wrapped box in his direction and ducking his head.

"Thank you," he comments as he accepts it, fingers carefully sliding over it to find where the tape will be the easiest to tear, and not finding a spot. Instead he picks a corner to work a finger in and rip the paper. Once he has the paper off, he sets it aside and opens the box inside it. There is a light show crystal rectangle that is covered with etching and with a base. A careful look at the base tells him it has been changed in some small ways, there is two different on and off switches instead of one, and the light bulb cover can pop off.

"Thank you," he repeats, holding the rectangle up to look at what's on its surfaces. It appears to be some sort of plant, and it takes him a minute to realize it's a tree, a rowan to be exact. "I really like this."

Maksim ducks his head, skin turning beat red as he blushes, "Good."

"Thank you for such a thoughtful gift, I'll keep it with my laptop," he tells the pre-teen with a warm smile, carefully tucking it back into the box. 'Did you do the etching yourself?"

"Some of it," Maksim answers, head still down, "My teacher thought I was trying to do something outside my ability and was really surprised when I managed to get it done."

"Well it's really nice," he replies, "I think you did a great job. Shall we go rejoin the others?"

His stepbrother nods, and the two of them leave the bedroom, heading back downstairs.

They find Alec and the rest of the family in the front longue, hot tea and coffee, along with vodka are all set out for them to drink along with a tray of finger foods. Even after a three years living in Russia he hasn't adjusted to some of the customs, so similar to what he would have had with the Ponds, yet so different because it is offered freely unlike his relatives from his mother’s family.

Alec is sitting quietly, merely watching as his siblings and his father's triad, including his father surprisingly enough, visit with each other.

He settles beside his soulmate, perching on the edge of the chair that his spy is sitting in.

Ekatrina is the one to speak, "I know your Aleksei has plans for your day, but we wanted to show that we care. You may be new to our family, due to things outside any of our control, but you are family."

He blinks, not sure what to make of that. He spent the first year and a half here thinking his father was ashamed of him. When he had finally met the triad he had been surprised by their reactions to him. Even more surprising had been his step- and half- siblings, he had not expected them to welcome him, but they had. Of course his youngest sister had welcomed him with open arms and a happy smile, more than the other two who didn't know what to make of him.

Elena jumps to her feet, heading to the small closet closest to the room, and coming back a minute later with a large silver gift  bag that is almost as tall as she is. Beaming, she sets it down in front of him before scampering back to her seat.

"This is our first year as a family celebrating your birthday, I hope there will be many more to come," Ekatrina comments, beaming at him and motioning to the bag.

Alec stands, hand motioning to the chair for him to sit on it, while his spy perches on the edge the way he had been just on the opposite side.

His lips twitch up in a smile as he moves, reaching out to tug the bag closer so he can reach in it.

Realizing that he is still holding his gift from Maksim, he sets it aside so he can pull the first gift out of the bag. Carefully opening the wrapping, he discovers a small leather case. When he unrolls it, he discovers a jeweler’s precision tool kit. The second one he unwraps is a collection of colorful socks that has Elena grinning like a Cheshire cat. The third thing he opens is a beautiful scarf, both soft and warm if he's not mistaken, with jewel tone colors blended together. His fourth gift makes him chuckle as it’s a Scrabble mug with the letter Q. The fifth thing he ends up pulling out is a sampler box of tea. While the last item is carefully folded at the bottom but not wrapped up any more than that, and is a nice gray coat.

He could hazard a guess where each of the gifts came from, but decides not, instead just stating, "Thank you," to the lot of them as he carefully packs them all back in the bag, adding the first gift he got from Maksim to the mix.

"You're welcome,"  Yevgeny tells him, voice a little less booming than normal.

Hopping to her feet, Elena grabs something off the coffee table, offering it to him with wide eyes and a smile.

Taking the envelope, he opens it up to discover a handmade birthday card with signatures from all three of his siblings. Beneath the handmade card is a store bought one with signatures and well wishes from Valentin, Ekatrina, and Yevgeny.

They spend the next few hours with them, visiting and eating lunch. He encourages his siblings to talk more than anything, keeping the focus on them rather than answering questions about his own life. He's got too much to figure out still to want to answer questions about his own life.

When he notices the subtle signs that they've been around the others a bit too long and Alec's nerves are fraying, he thanks them, standing and accepting the hugs even if he only returns them in truth to his siblings. It's easier to hug children than adults, particularly adults he is not the most comfortable with. He's getting there slowly, but it will be even longer, if ever, for Alec.

The trip back to their home is quick, no side tracking or detours. He leaves the bag in the car for the moment, he'll grab it later.

They are barely through the door when Alec is suddenly crowding into his space, hands cupping his jaw as firm lips press against his. He smiles into the kiss, opening up beneath the onslaught, and twining his arms around the taller man's neck.

Those lovely hands slide down his jaw, along his throat, and across his shoulders as they work their way downwards to take hold of his hips, pulling their bodies flush against each other.

A small part of his mind takes notice that Alec's body is actually reacting, something that hasn't happened thus far in their relationship, but he quickly dismisses it, because it doesn't matter. What matters is the fact his soulmate is trying to kiss him blind and he's going to focus on that instead.

When they finally break apart, both are breathing heavy, and he leans his head against his soulmate's shoulder.

"How about a bath?" Alec suggests, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

"Okay," he agrees wondering what his love has planned. They've shared baths in the past, normally followed by a night spent just touching each other, though Alec prefers he keeps his hands above the waist, something he easily accepts.

He chuckles when the taller man scoops him up, kissing him again before heading towards their bedroom and the attached bathroom.

In the bathroom, his soulmate sits him on the edge of the sink counter, hands sliding along his body, firmly caressing him through his clothes.

Biting back a smirk, he enjoys the more playful side, because it's easy to recognize that is exactly what this is.

Smirking at him, Alec pushes his jacket off, hands running along his shirt, tugging it up out of his slacks. Long fingers sneak under the edge of his shirt, just lightly brushing against the skin of his stomach, causing his muscles to twitch and his breath to catch. Slowly, teasingly, the shirt is dragged up over his head and dropped on the floor.

Alec's hands come up to hold his hips as the taller man steps between his legs, head dipping in order to nibble lightly across his collarbone.

Sansha lifts him from the counter, standing him on the floor, hands sliding along to the front of his lacks, unfastening the button, flicking the zipper down, and pushing his slacks off his hips. The material pools at his ankles, leaving him in nothing but his pants.

Mischief fills his soulmate's expression as his hands slide down his legs and Alec kneels between them encouraging him to lift his foot, one at a time to take his shoes off and remove his slacks the rest of the way.

It's going to be one of those days, he thinks in amusement.

"You're overdressed," he murmurs, hand coming up to cup his love’s jaw, thumb stroking Alec's lip.

Playfully his soulmate bites his thumb, letting go just before standing back up.

He hops back on the sink and just sits there watching the taller man as Alec turns the water on in the tub and takes his time striping.

Once the tub is half way full, his soulmate climbs in, and he hops back down in order to join Sansha. He sighs in enjoyment as the warmth of the water covers his body, leaning back against Alec's firm body, enjoying being bracketed in by strong limbs and solid muscle.

"Great idea," he murmurs when his Sansha uses his foot to turn the water off. "This is nice."

Pressing a kiss against the skin just below his ear, Alec hums, "Yes it was."

For a little bit they just sit there relaxing, hot water and moist steam soothing away tense muscles. Eventually, his soulmate grabs the flannel and body wash, taking his time washing his front and sides before asking him to lean forward. Stretching, he reaches for his toes as Alec scrubs his back, humming contently. He'd purr except he never quite figured out how to make that noise.

He's still humming in pleasure when Sansha suggests, "Why don't we get out and I'll give you a full body massage?"

"Okay," he agrees happily, rubbing his back against Alec's chest. "Gotta move first, I'm not braining myself."

Chuckling, his Sansha presses a kiss to his neck before straightening so he can get up.

He'd offer to help but has a feeling it wouldn't be welcome, so instead he stands, stretching towards the ceiling for a moment before stepping out of the warm water. A moment later he is reaching for a towel, drying himself off while he watches his love quickly scrub himself. Normally he'd insist on a shower to rinse as well since baths are not as clean as showers, but he's enjoying himself too much. Besides, he can shower in the morning.

When Alec is done, the older man quickly drains the water as he rinses and climbs out to grab the second towel. Besides doing a brief drying pat, his love does nothing else with it, and wraps it firmly around his narrow hips.

"After you," the mostly-retired spy comments, motioning to their bedroom.

Grinning, he hangs the towel up before leaving the bathroom, sprawling on the bed face first. He should probably scoot further up rather than just hang off the edge, but he's sort of comfortable like this. That's alright, cause a moment later Alec is kneeling above him, hands lifting him way easier than he sometimes appreciates and moving him where his lover wants him.

He listens as he hears the top of the oil container pop open and sniffs the air to see if Alec's picked a scented one or not.

Smells like cedar, he thinks pleasantly.

It's warm, probably from his soulmate's hands, as Alec starts to rub it into his skin, starting at the top of his back and working his way around the outside and down before going back upwards to make the circle smaller, moving inwards always.

He relaxes into the touch, enjoying the way those firm, calloused fingers feel against the skin of his back and sides. When Alec is done with his torso, his soulmate works his way downwards, kneading his arse before continuing down to the back of his legs. He has to bite back the noises threatening to escape because this is damned near sexual compared to massages Alec's given in the past, but he refuses to read into this any more than it is.

When he said he was alright with things the way they are he wasn't joking. Yes, his Sansha has been reacting to him all day, but he's not jinxing anything by getting demandy or needy. He's lived this long without sex, it's not going to bother him to keep going.

When Alec reaches his feet and those dexterous hands are rubbing the arches of his feet he can't stop the low groan of pleasure. His left foot has had a knot in it for the last week, side effect of nearly tripping over the neighbor's dog while walking, and that feels wonderful.

Nipping at the back of his calf, his love tells him, "Go ahead and make noise, I enjoy them."

A soft chuckle escapes at the second nip, this time to the other leg as he agrees, with another drawn out groan. Who knew there were so many kinks in his foot?

"Roll," his soulmate directs, hands lifting off his feet while he does so.

He can feel his skin heating in a hot blush as Alec's eyes rove over him, starting with his feet and going all the way up his body, eyes almost searing hot. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips, the motion followed by bright green eyes that shimmer with lust.

Maybe he wasn't reading too much into it, he thinks as his eyes slide over the spy's body when his Sansha goes back to massaging his legs. There is definitely a reaction. While Alec keeps working his way upwards, he takes his time studying the older man and noticing the differences.

He doesn't bite back the noises as his soulmate works his way up his body. He's not sure whether he is happy or annoyed that Alec completely bypasses his cock along the way. Though that thought is quickly replaced by a bolt of pleasure as his soulmate slips higher up his body, straddling his hips so they rub against each other while continuing the massage on the muscles of his chest.

That pleasure builds with every single roll of his Sansha's hips. The grinding of their cocks together, the friction building between.

Bracing himself on his arms and leaning down so he is crouched over him, their faces close together, Alec murmurs, "Done," just before sucking on his bottom lip, lightly nipping at it.

Like that he's coming, he sensations far more than he expected or is used to.

He'd be embarrassed for coming so fast but it felt far too pleasurable to be embarrassed. Besides, he'll be hopefully hard again in minutes.

His hands slip between their bodies, and he reaches for Alec, wanting to see what his lover looks like when he gets off, only to have his wrist grabbed and his hand dragged upwards.

Kissing his knuckles, his soulmate murmurs, "Not yet."

He nods drowsily in agreement, there's time enough for that later. Instead he tips his head and puckers his lips, they should definitely go back to kissing.


	86. 20th Birthday (Part II)

Alec's POV  
He's in the middle of washing Jon's back when it hits him: his cock is hard. Full mast. Filled out. Pulsing. He's _aching_ with need.

It's been _years_ since he was this hard!

He keeps himself calm, or as calm as he can, falling back on his Double O training to do so. Tonight's not about him. It's about Jon. He's soulmate. His Rowan. The man who saved him in so many ways he'll never be able to express them all. That's what tonight is.

Jon mumbles something but he's so excited about the fact he's actually got an erection, he misses it.

Instead he presses their bodies together so they are touching everywhere, suggesting huskily, "Why don't we get out and I'll give you a full body massage?"

"Okay," the smaller man agrees, pressing their bodies closer together, almost grinding that perfect arse against him, making him bite back a groan of pleasure. "You gotta move first, I'm not braining myself," his soon to be lover tells him.

He chuckles breathlessly, kissing the nape of Jon's neck before he slowly straightens up, sliding his body along his Rowan's for as long as possible.

As Jon stands up, he watches the way the water runs down the creamy honey-toned skin, making it shimmer in the low light. When his Rowan stretches, hands reaching for the ceiling, he swallows hard, enjoying the play of muscle. His eyes are drawn to the tree that covers so much of the smaller man's skin, more than the one on his skin does. Following the path of the tree branches has him coming to the storm clouds, just out of reach but no longer looking sick and angry. He doesn't know why Jon's looks so much better than his. Could it be because it is a secondary mark for Jon rather than the primary? There are those who say the first soulmark is the more important one, even though others swear balance is needed between partners.

Internally shaking his head, he watches as his Rowan dries off, wiping all of that water off and removing the sheen it created. His soulmate hangs the towel up while he grabs one and dries himself, wrapping it around his hips and over his still throbbing erection.

Smirking, because today is going better than planned, he motions to the bedroom door, stating, "After you."

Jon smirks back at him, a playful twitch of the lips that is closer to a grin but precious to him because he seems to be the only person to get that expression.

He follows the smaller man into their room, biting back a laugh, followed by a groan, when his soon to be lover throws himself on the bed. Licking his lips, he wonders if Jon realizes exactly how delectable he looks like that, almost like an offering with his pert arse in the air.

This is not about me, he reminds himself as he gets impossibly harder, almost to the point it hurts to walk but it feels so wonderful after so long without any sort of reaction.

Dragging his gaze away from such a perfect sight, and isn't he feeling sentimental tonight? He heads to the dresser in order to collect the variety of oils he purchased for just this occasion. His hands skim over them as he considers which would be best. Eventually settling on a cedar-cinnamon spice that he thought would go wonderfully with Jon's personality.

Turning to the bed, he has to decide what the best course of action would be, and decides he will just straddle his love's hips. It will make it easier to reach everywhere, and if it gives him a chance to touch, well, he'll back off as soon as Jon wants him to or he sees any signs of the touch being unwelcome.

When he is done with the massage, he changes positioning so he can brace himself on his elbows, hands next to Jon's head as he leans in, nipping and sucking at Jon's lip as he murmurs "Done." His hips never stop rolling, maintaining the friction between them.

He's surprised when his Rowan gasps, body arching towards his, eyes widening in shock before falling almost shut. Hot semen fills the space between their bellies even as his hips still roll, causing him to moan in pleasure and pride. He did this, he caused his love to feel the sort of pleasure that overwhelms the senses.

A moment later a slender hand is snaking between their bodies, almost reaching him before he grabs hold with his left pulling that hand away from its goal to kiss Jon's knuckles, "Not yet," he states softly, hoping to continue the night.

He meets hazel amber eyes with his own, delighting in the pleasure and affection he can so clearly see.

Jon nods in blissful agreement, tipping his head and puckering his lips.

Smiling, for today is going better than planned, he kisses his soulmate long and slow.

He shifts to the side, pulling the smaller man close so they can lay together. Jon's head is pillowed on his shoulder while his hands stroke slowly along their marks.

His Rowan makes content noises against his side, humming in pleasure, one hand lazily stroking his chest.

"Thank you," Jon mumbles in Scottish Gaelic, "This has been a very enjoyable birthday."

Smirking, he responds, "It's not done yet."

Jon tips his head, smiling at him warmly and stretching to feather kisses against his jaw. "I almost think a shower is in order, except I'm comfy."

"I could grab a rag for us," he offers, stopping just shy of switching from the tree to the clouds as he traces their marks.

That smile twitches into a grin, just shy of a smirk as his lover responds, "I have a feeling it wouldn't matter and we'll be making a bigger mess in a bit."

Well yes, he thinks happily, if Jon's amenable, he'd love to show the younger man exactly how good in bed he is. That'd make a lovely gift, he thinks, lots of pleasure and orgasms.

He doesn't pay attention to how much time they simply lay there enjoying each other's company, the smell of sex in the air. What he does notice is when Jon stretches and moves, straddling his hips and smiling almost shyly when their erections brush against each other again.

His hands run down the smaller man's sides to rest on his hips, he's curious to see where his Rowan is going to take this.

Answer to that question? Exploring.

Long fingers with callouses from the keyboards dance just over his skin. Not quite touching but still so easy for him to feel. He arches into the contact, trying to make sure Jon knows he can actually touch, though he understands why his Vansha isn't. Since their one failed attempt at sex over a year ago he hasn't really liked being touched like that, even though he enjoys Jon's touch the rest of the times.

Some of the shyness melts away as curiosity takes over and the smaller man presses a bit firmer into his body, hips occasionally rolling as he shifts where his attention is at. The tips of just the first two fingers are used to trace both the soulmarks at the same time, eyes nearly glowing with amber lust as he does so.

"You're _mine_ ," Jon hisses possessively, leaning down and nearly falling flat on his face as he presses a series of kisses across his throat and collarbone.

The possessiveness in his soulmate's voice sends a bolt of lust right through him, filling him with desire hotter than anything he can remember in the last decade.

He groans low in his throat when Jon nips at his chest, working his way downwards without moving his hips at this point. His fingers tighten as the smaller man's hips when Jon nearly folds in half. He sometimes forgets exactly how flexible his hacker is.

As his Vansha gets lower on his body, he stops the smaller man, muttering, "Probably should use a condom for safety," a moment later he asks, "Do we even have condoms?"

Snickering, Jon nips at his stomach, making his muscles jump at the shock of it. "Alec love, you remember Valentin is a doctor right? One who knew you were my soulmate?"

He blinks, trying to decide what that has to do with anything when it clicks.

"However," the smaller man nips at a different spot on his stomach, tongue swirling a moment later over the bite, "If you'd like to use some for clean up reasons," he twists and sucks on his hip bone. How the hell is Jon doing that? "There are some in the drawer on my side of the bed, along with lube. You remember that Christmas present the first year?"

He groans, body twitching as Jon shifts backwards just the slightest bit, in order to continue kissing along his pelvis, waiting for him to answer it seems before going any further.

Those lips are downright sinful, he thinks. Does he want the condom? Not really, but he is concerned for Jon's safety. That is first and foremost important. However his Vansha seems to be implying that he's clean and tested. But only a single test could be wrong. While it is true he hadn't been the most sexually active after James died, except when he had to be, he had had unprotected sex and Jon's too important to risk.

"You're sure of the results?" he demands roughly.

Smiling, sitting up slowly and sliding his hips just the slightest, his Rowan answers, "Four different tests, the first when you first were brought to me. The second just before he stopped keeping you asleep. The third when he did that blood draw just after your team re-entered your life. The fourth and final that blood draw after I showed you the marks and you didn't leave."

He can remember the two blood draws, the one he hadn't understood, the other the doctor had said was to make sure all his vitamins and other levels were correct. While there is a part of him annoyed at the deception, considering it happened before he knew Jon was his soulmate, it makes sense. Valentin had been trying to protect his son as best as he can. That's something he can respect since that is what he wants to do to. It's been years since he had sex, longer than just the two he's been with Jon in one way or another.

His Rowan continues to tease him, hands stroking and petting, affection clear in every touch, as is the desire.

"I've already made us a bit of a mess, if that's what you're concerned about," Jon tells him with a playful smile.

That is true, his soulmate had made a bit of a mess of their stomachs coming the way he had. It was _glorious_.

"No condom," he mumbles, trusting that Jon and Valentin are right and he's clean. It's definitely been long enough for any tests to be accurate, particularly four tests.

Wriggling backwards, down his body, his young soulmate licks his lips as he sprawls between his legs, hands never leaving his skin.

He gasps when Jon kitten licks his tip, tongue flicking out to taste him. His hands claw at the blankets, not wanting to grab his lover’s hair and force him into anything as his hips canter up, seeking more contact, more anything.

Blowing on him lightly, his soulmate remarks, "I'm beginning to get why you like hearing me make noise. It's a pleasure without name."  

With that, his younger lover goes to taking his time exploring him. Jon seems to use all of his senses to do so. Tongue flicking to taste him, licking long paths along his vein, swirling around the head of his cock, narrowing to dip within his foreskin without moving it to taste the precome bubbling from the slit. Nose running along the sides, down one to bury in his curl hair, then up the other, huffing out deep breaths and an almost purring noise despite the fact Jon says he can't purr. Occasionally, his Rowan sits back, studying the way he twitches and reacts, his hazel eyes blown amber and black, all other colors gone in the passion. Those eyes travel up his body, setting his nerves a flame with lust. Long, slender fingers dance over his skin, stroking, petting feeling. Jon traces their marks, hands leading down his legs, following scars and freckles, touching everything only to roll his balls, getting a feel for exactly how heavy he is. Each touch seems to be equal measures tease and exploration, causing a plethora of sounds to fall from his lips as his body shakes and trembles, pushing against those curious hands, silently begging for more.

More that his love gives him without question.

Soon enough he's at the edge, just about ready to cascade over in a whirl of pleasure, when he reaches down and cups Jon's face, body tense as he murmurs, "If you'd let me, I want to come inside." He can feel the way his skin heats, a blush coloring all of him.

Wide eyed, Jon dips his head to give him one last lick before scampering up his body, kissing him long and deeply, until they are both breathless and panting.

" _Yes_ ," Jon his against his mouth, kissing him again.

Needing nothing else said, he rolls them, so that his Rowan is on the bottom and reaches for that lube.

When his hands close around it he growls low in his throat in pleasure before setting to kissing, licking, and nipping his way down Jon's body. He delights in every breathless and needy moan, every drawn out hiss of pleasure, every single noise that escapes his lover's lips as he continues on his path. He's pretty sure that this is the first time his Rowan has had sex since he knows exactly how disinterested in sex Jon normally is, so he wants to make it the best he can.

Normally he'd trace that massive mark, the one that tells him Jon's his and no one else's, the one that brought them together, but for now he is working on the clear skin instead, following the thin goody trail line right down the middle of the smaller man's chest. His tongue swirls around and in the younger man's belly button before he keeps going. He takes his time mimicking what Jon did, only he swallows his lover down, humming around Jon's cock and swallowing when he takes that hard length deep.

Almost immediately his Rowan is coming, hips bucking, back bowing, a long drawn out gasp of pleasure filling the air as Jon's fingers sink into his hair.

"Alec," his lover gasps, " _Alec_!"

His name sounds like music to his ears.

With one last gentle suck, he releases the semi-hard cock, knowing that Jon will be hard again before this is done. "May I still?" he asks, voice rough and low, full of pent up need.

"Yes!" the younger man answers, voice breathless as he demands, "Now!"

He chuckles against Jon's hip, pressing a kiss to the very bottom of the tree where the roots sink into Jon's short hairs.

He doesn't immediately follow that order. Instead, he lifts his lover's legs up, putting them over his shoulders while he carefully spreads Jon's pert cheeks to reveal that tight hole. Licking his lips, he glances up, nearly losing his control at the sight before him: Jon spread out like a feast, body relaxed into the bed, hands clasping the bedding, a fine sheen a sweat covering the smaller man's body, almost making it glow in the light, eyes nearly closed but pupils blown so it's hard to tell that they are any color but black and gold.

It's better than anything he's ever imagined.

Still watching Jon, his tongue flicks out, mimicking the cat licks his lover gave him earlier and delighting in how those narrow hips lift and arch towards him, giving him even more space to work with as he sets to licking and sucking, working his way inside that tight pucker.

A part of him is surprised at how clean his Rowan is, after all it's not something a lot of people do regularly, yet this makes him think it's a regular thing, particularly the lack of hair anywhere around his lover's entrance.

Dismissing that as something to think of later, he continues at his task, allowing himself to enjoy it far more than he has with any other partner since James.

Before long Jon is fully hard again, hips rolling in time to his licks.

Carefully letting go with one hand, he uses his thumb to click the lube open before realizing he needs his other hand to actually use it. With one last lick he pulls back, letting go of his love's pert arse in order to drizzle a liberal amount of lube on his fingers so he could start working Jon open the rest of the way. When the tip of his first finger slides in smoothly they both moan. He takes his time working it all the way in before pulling all but the very tip out to repeat the process.

" _Alec_!" Jon writhes, voices needy in a way he's never heard before.

"I've got you," he murmurs, scattering kisses across his love's stomach, distracting the younger man with light, teasing touches.

He works a second finger into his Vansha, taking his time opening him up in order to do a thorough job. This would probably be easier with Jon on his knees, but he is enjoying being able to look up at his soulmate's face far to much too have him roll.

When Jon bares down on his third finger, he has to ask, "Have you experimented or done this before?" He's sure his voice is a bit possessive, or jealous, and he really doesn't have any room to speak, but he'd still like to know.

"No," his soulmate gasps as he finds the smaller man's prostate, "I have a best friend who sent me a lot of slash erotica upon discovering both my soulmates were men. Said I needed to be prepared." Jon's slender hips press down, pushing against him trying to get the friction needed, " _Alec_!"

He moves his fingers, carefully thrusting them in and out, making sure his Rowan is ready. Taking Jon's legs off his shoulders, he quickly kisses a trail up Jon's chest, stopping to suck a mark into the junction between throat and shoulder before continuing upwards, claiming his lover's mouth in a deep kiss. He uses his hands to slick himself up before tossing the lube aside and lifting Jon's hips to line them up.

Jon gasps into his mouth as he presses slowly in, even with the prep and extra lube, his lover is tight and the friction is almost more than he can take after so long. It feels so good that he groans, breaking the kiss as it becomes hard to concentrate on not coming as he slowly pulls back only to thrust further in, taking his time bottoming out, teasing both of them.

Long legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer, tipping upwards and changing the angle a bit, making it easier to slip in.

" _Alec_!" his Rowan sounds wrecked, and he realizes he closed his eyes, so he forces them open, staring at his lover.

The sight before him nearly takes his breath away, freezing him in place buried to the hilt as he admires his Jon. Dark hair is mussed and curling in every direction, wild and uncontrolled. Hazel-green eyes are vibrant golden amber rings surrounding pitch black pupils blown so wide it's a wonder his lover can see. Honey skin shines with sweat and a flush that makes his lover seem more like a peach tone.

"Jon," he groans, kissing the younger man as he withdraws slowly before snapping his hips forward.

The legs around him tighten, drawing him further in then he thought possible. Jon's arms come up around his shoulders, one hand stroking his back and the other sinking into his hair at the nape of his neck.

A litany of sounds fills the air as they slowly figure out a rhythm and pace, what makes both feel just right.

He can feel the way Jon's balls are pulling up, getting tenser and how his lovers cock is pulsing between them, throbbing and hard.

" _Jon_ ," he moans again, voice full of everything he'll never say aloud because he's been trained not to, but knows he should say. He'll show it with his body and actions, make sure that Jon knows without a doubt he's not leaving, that he's Jon's for as long as his Rowan will keep him.

Shifting his hips, he aims to hit that bundle of nerves that he stroked when teasing and opening his lover up. He knows the instant he finds it because almost immediately Jon's coming between them, body bowing against his, tightening until not even a breath later he's coming with a drawn out gasp.

Vansha goes limp in his arms, limbs sliding off as his eyes drift shut.

Carefully he withdraws, getting out of bed to go fetch a warm wet flannel to clean them up before returning to their bed and the glorious mess that' his soulmate. He did that. He's the one who brought pleasure to his lover. He's the one who got to introduce Jon to exactly how good it can be. He's the one who Jon decided to keep and be with. Him. Not James. Not some unmarked person. Him.

When he's done washing the younger man, he tosses the flannel aside, carefully lifting his Vansha and holding him close while taking the top most blanket off the bed and tucking them beneath the next layer. He'll throw the comforter in the wash later, for now, well for now he's going to bask in the afterglow.


	87. Panic & Fear

Alec's POV   
He wakes up a few hours later to Jon stretching against him like a cat, a low hiss of pain escaping the smaller man.

He overdid it, he realizes, push for too much too fast. He should have known better. After all, Jon's not really interested in sex. Hasn't he made that abundantly clear over the last year when he couldn't get it up no matter what he thought or tried short of pills? Shit.

What has he done? What if Jon pulls away from him now? What if Jon decides that he wants too much? Did he treat Jon like a mark? He never wanted to do that. His eyes roam over his lover's body, seeing all the marks he left behind from the possessive hickeys to the finger shaped bruises. Why was he so out of control? What has he done? He's just a scarred old man. How could he think for one moment he'd be what Jon wants or needs? What he needs is someone who pays attention, and the thing that has been repeated over and over again is the fact Jon doesn't need sex. Damn it, there is no way that Jon's going to-

His thoughts are cut short by his Rowan shoving him on his back, straddling his hips, and cupping his jaw, forcing him to meet Jon's eyes.

"Stop." There is command in that tone, for all it is stated softly. "Don't do that to yourself."

He blinks trying to process what he is hearing. He must be mistaken. He's quite sure he's messed up.

"Alec love, stop that," the younger man tells him, leaning in to nuzzle his face. "I enjoyed myself, you enjoyed yourself, it was a good afternoon that left both of us sleepy. We took a lovely nap. Now we need food," his lover's expression turns playful, "because I don't know about you but I am famished. Nothing I've read prepared me for exactly how hungry I was going to be, or I would have insisted we have snacks in here."

He blinks again, wait, what? His Rowan isn't upset with him?

Jon's voice is full of warmth as the dark-haired man continues, "No love, I'm not upset with you. Why would I be? We've had a wonderful day, you've spent all of it spoiling me, taking care of me." Vansha feathers kisses across his face, "I've," kiss to his left eyelid, "had," kiss to his right eyelid, "a," kiss to the corner of his lips, "wonderful," kiss to the other side of his lips, "birthday," kiss directly to his lips which is soft and affectionate, reassuring even.

As his Rowan keeps affectionately kissing him, hands lightly stroking his skin, he feels himself relaxing. Maybe he hasn't messed up as badly as he thought. He's sure he still overstepped the bounds between them, but if Jon's not angry, well he'll just have to make sure he doesn't do it again. He knows one of these days his Vansha is going to get tired of all the baggage that comes with him, all the little things he knows he does wrong even though Jon never says anything.

There's been far too many wistful comments about family for him not to realize he keeps messing up or something is missing. He just doesn't know how to correct it. It isn't like he had somewhere to learn how to do this from. His own family was dysfunctional even before things went wrong and he lost contact with them. James didn't have any good examples for him. From what he can see Valentin is not that good of an example, the man forgot Jon's birthday for two years in a row and had to be confronted before introducing Jon to the rest of the triad and family.

Dmitri? He thinks, or maybe Svetlana's triad? No. He doesn't know the other members of the triad, just them, and he's sure that they would have suggestions too. He could ask Pyotr, Lilya, or Dayesi but that seems like a bad idea since the ladies don't belong to an actual soulbonded triad, instead they are part of a triad of choice. Actually that might make them the best to ask because they choose to be with each other, not destined or soulmarked.

A light nip to his nose draws him out of his mind, Jon's still sitting on his thighs and despite the pleasure already shared between them, he can feel himself getting hard again. Figures, hasn't had any sort of reaction in over two years, now he can't seem to stop.

"Stop overthinking," his hacker suggests before asking, "Any dinner plans?"

He smiles, answering "Yes, I had Ottar make your favorites, he's supposed to drop it in the oven around seven."

Amused, Jon tells him, "Perfect, because it's after ten and I'm starving."

Wrapping his arms around the smaller man and sitting up, he kisses his Vansha softly, replying, "Then I better feed you."

The warmth of Jon's smile has the rest of the stress melting away. He might not know what he's doing between them, but he'll figure it out just to keep seeing those smiles. Jon doesn't lie to him as a rule, so if he does make a mistake, his hacker will tell him. He just has to trust that.


	88. Planning for Moving

Jon’s POV  
The last two years have been very busy between helping Alec to rebuild and restructure the Janus network into a mercenary company, getting to know the family a bit more, getting lots of lessons in self defense from practically everyone in their small circle, and running missions from behind his screen in real time. His earwigs have been a wonderful addition to the equipment. They can be voice activated and the coding frequencies changed as needed. They are small and see through, a trick that had taken him several tries to get right, to someone who doesn’t know what they are looking at, his ear pieces just look like new hearing aids. Even some people who do know what an earwig is haven’t realized that they aren’t hearing aids.

Just before Christmas, Alec had asked where he wanted to live if he could live anywhere, and he mentioned wanting to spend some time in France. That he wouldn’t mind living in the Middle East at some point to work on his Arabic and that he eventually wanted to visit Aither to see what her compound looks like since he helped design the blueprints and security for it.

So they are moving to France to spend a year or two there. Maybe later they will pick a Middle Eastern country to live in for a while, just not quite yet. He could always hire someone to teach him the spoken language. He’s sure Nadiya could make the arrangements, so it’s something to consider in the future.

For the time being, Pyotr will be running the Russian offices so he doesn’t have to relocate or be separated from his soulmates. Dayesi and Lilya will be travelling with them.  Something about someone needs to make sure they stay out of trouble. He’s pretty sure they are actually coming because Aither tends to visit him first and they happen to be building something together between the three of them. He has no clue if Aither still sleeps with Sparks occasionally or not, he hasn’t asked. Officially they broke up but considering they were never actually together, well, he’s staying out of that mess.

They haven’t told Valentin and the rest of the triad yet, wanting to make arrangements before they do so. They are planning on taking a weeklong trip there to see if they might find somewhere they like at the end of the month. If they do, then they will come back long enough to make the rest of the arrangements before moving.

Dmitri is doing an excellent job running the shelter. It’s one of the most popular shelters because of the set up, which surprises him. He never expected it to grow to the popularity that it has. It’s actually gotten to the point where they had to buy the building next door and set up an actual school rather than just having the lessons there in the building. However, unlike a traditional school where the hours are locked into place, it does a flowing system where there are lessons going at any point of the day or night, and a small buffet that is refreshed every two hours. Several of the teachers in it were once Khorya’s students that excelled and want to be able to share that with other people.

The flat complexes he purchased are doing well. The first year had been insanely busy as he remodeled flat after flat, working on getting each one up to British code which is more exacting than Russian code. At least for now, who knows which will be better later? He found people who could be trusted to run each, and gave them a lot of incentive not to ruin that trust. If they ever do, well, they really won’t like what happens. He can ruin them very easily. Although, that is _not_ something that he advertises.

The other warehouse he bought and converted into a shelter is doing well, but not as well as the first. Its focus is towards older people, and in many cases, older people get stuck and have a hard time asking for a way out. Still, its outreach programs do decently enough. He just hasn’t quite figured out how to make it break even instead of losing funds every year. Maybe he will set up the same sorts of crafts program there, people living there can make crafts and the profits go towards maintaining the building and the services. The younger kids were perfectly fine with that, they made the crafts during lessons and projects, the ones they didn’t want to keep are sold to people who like handmade stuff.

There are actually plans for a second shelter like the first one, focused on younger people and helping them get the paperwork, training, and education needed to find stable jobs and maintain homes. The building was bought last month, and the construction crew has already started the renovations. He’s planning on seeing if Larisa has any older orphans who would be interested in training to take over the shelter. Or perhaps see if there is any of the older people in Dmitri’s shelter that would like to take on that project. Better do that this week.

He even bought an old warehouse that he converted into a studio and hackers asylum for the teenagers who are great at art or computers. They put their skills to work running and maintaining a website for soulmark matching. Those who are good at drawing make detailed sketches of the marks for a flat fee, always working in pairs to avoid any problems with people who want to take advantage or hurt them. They learned that lesson after a man hired one of the girls to do his marks and tried raping her. Alec and Dayesi took care of that man, he didn’t ask what happened to him, but they put safety precautions in following that so it would be less likely to happen again. Once the sketches are done they are loaded into the database. There is a pair of siblings who run the building for him, making sure the computers don’t crash and none of the hackers get caught or break any of the house rules. Namely the rule of don’t try to hack Ivan, Ivan doesn’t take it very well. So far that program has generated enough income to support that building and put a lot of money into the maintenance fund used by all of his buildings.

Humming, he considers the fact that Alec is willingly leaving Russia because he wants to. It’s not actually something he ever expected. Not with everything that has happened. Still, it’s a very sweet move and he will make sure his soulmate knows _exactly_ how much he appreciates it.

It’s only been a few months since sex was added to their lives, and it’s still not a huge part of it. Thankfully, his Sansha doesn’t mind that he prefers to have sensual nights to sexual nights.

However, since Alec has gotten back to being a sexually functioning man again, he’s delighted in learning all of the ways he can bring his soulmate pleasure. It’s great fun to see what things make Sansha hum in relaxation or purr with satisfaction.

He’s also noticed that now that things are working right again, his Sansha is a lot more confident. He doesn’t understand what having the ability to get an erection has to do with confidence, but if that’s what his soulmate needs, then he’ll just try to be supportive.

What will they need to take with them for a weeklong trip to France to see whether they want to move there full time? Couple of changes of clothing, the laptop, information for contacts and house realtors. Although, he smiles to himself, Alec’s probably got a lot of contacts of his own already there. Not that that’s going to stop him from getting information for some of his own. Lo has a sister in that area, maybe he will see about having lunch with her. He’s rather fond of Lo after all.

He’s still humming when Alec finds him a little bit later, strong arms wrapping around his waist as he is pulled backwards against a firm chest.

“Hello Sansha,” he murmurs, snuggling back against his soulmate and enjoying the way they fit together.

“Vansha,” his soulmate replies, softly nuzzling behind his ear.

“Have a productive day?” he queries tipping his head slightly to make it easier for Alec to touch his neck.

“Extremely,” Sansha responds, “Although our plan to go to France bothers Petya. What’s he going to think when I tell him we’re going to London?”

Startled he turns around and studies his soulmate curiously. They haven’t discussed London yet, it wasn’t on his list of places to relocate too.

“Not now, but later, because I know eventually you will want to go back. I spent years wanting to go back, but it’s not important anymore because wherever you are is where I am going to be,” Alec tells him softly.

“I didn’t think you’d ever wish to go back.” He comments quietly, hand coming up to run along the side of his lover’s face.

“Not any time soon,” Sansha repeats, “but eventually.” His spy takes a deep breath, “Eventually I will need to face it, and _him_ , but I...” his soulmate’s voice trails off as if unsure what to say.

“Thank you,” he whispers, pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss. He’s not thanking Alec for being willing to go back, but for trusting him with the fear and emotions caused by their third soulmate.

“Always,” his spy whispers against his lips.

For a moment they stand there like that, Alec’s arms wrapped around him, his hands lightly cupping the older man’s face, just breathing each other in. There is barely enough space for a piece of paper between them, let alone anything else.

Eventually his Sansha steps back a little, looking around and asking, “So what all have you packed?”

Chuckling, he takes his time explaining his options and his ideas. Including the idea that maybe they should drive down rather than take a plane. When his lover asks why, he has to admit to the fact he doesn’t like to fly. He’s not afraid the planes going down, but he gets extremely sick, it’s the reason he hadn’t gone with his parents on that last trip.

Surprisingly enough, Alec immediately agrees with him to drive there instead, for which he is definitely thankful.  It will take two days driving, so they will actually be gone for eleven days instead of the original seven. On the plus side, it will give him a chance to see parts of Europe he has only heard about.

“I should probably add more clothes to our go bag huh?” he questions as he glances over.

“Later,” his Sansha tells him, cupping his face and lightly nipping at his lower lip, “Much later.”

His body starts to warm up and he grins against firm lips, “I’m good with that. Much later is a _far_ better plan.”


	89. Paris

Jon’s POV  
The first two days they are in Paris are dedicated to acting like a normal soulmarked dyad. There are a few questioning looks, but not a lot. Most people are more curious about whether they are looking for their third or not, and wishing them the best of luck finding their third to complete their triad. They even have a few people who suggest matching sites, making him laugh since one of those site suggested is his.

The best part is meal time because his soulmate knows all the best places it seems and they never go to the same one twice. He loves the food, and the people are great, not minding the fact he is trying to improve his French by using it. They even run into another dyad that is there to do the same thing, so the four of them go to dinner together. Although he can tell Alec’s doing it more because he is enjoying the conversation than because his spy actually wants to go.

They are halfway through dinner when he queries, “Where are you from?”

“I’m from Cardiff,” Willow replies sheepishly, “We met during an exchange program for our teaching degrees.”

“I’m from Florence, like she said, we met while doing an exchange program for our degrees. I was working on a class for Classical Literature and our schools decided to do a joint program for one of the classes. It was completely voluntary, but I jumped on the chance to see more of Europe without having to be the one paying for it.” Adrione comments, glancing at Willow and smiling, “Second week of class I rolled up my sleeves for something, and she gasped. It’s the first time anyone’s made a noise about my soulmark, so I looked at her funny, like what’s the problem, only to realize her sleeves were pulled up too.” The Italian shakes his head, “I’d heard rumors of people meeting like that but I never expected to be one of them.”

He can’t help it, he laughs and shakes his head. “We met because my father treated him for an emergency and remembered what my soulmark looked like.”

Beside him Alec snickers, relaxing into the chair.

“That’s amazing!” she exclaims, “What are the odds?”

He almost answers that but decides against it, she probably doesn’t mean it literally.

“Do you mind if I ask what the soulmark is?” he inquires politely, knowing some people find that question offensive.

“Not at all,” Adrione replies, “We haven’t actually settled on where we are going to live yet because we want to try and find our third first.” The Italian tells him as the teacher rolls up his sleeve, turning a tanned arm upwards to reveal a very familiar parchment and fountain pen design.

“Your other design is that of a string of numbers in Cyrillic around a set of paintbrushes.” He states calmly, getting surprised looks from both of them.

“How do you know that?” Willow asks, shock and amazement in her voice.

“I know the bloke with the other mark.” He replies with a shrug, “He’s an artist for Sketched Marks.”

“That’s amazing,” she breathes, wide eyes darting between him and Adrione. “Do you, I mean, have you,” she starts, trying to ask him something.

He’s pretty sure he knows what she wants, “Do I know his phone number or email?”

She nods energetically, “Yes!”

“I have both,” he responds with a smile.

She just about squeals in happiness, almost shyly asking, “Could I get them from you? Does he want to know who his other soulmates are?”

“He was one of the first to sign up on Sketched Marks. I did the sketches for him.” He answers with a smile, reaching in his pocket to tug out a pen and paper. He quickly jots the information down, tearing it out, and passing it to her before offering her the notebook and pen to write their information down on.  “I’ll email him with your info,” he tells them when Adrione gives him a curious look.

While she is writing out both their emails and the cell phone numbers, Adrione asks, “What languages does,” there is a pause for the teacher to look at the paper, “Isaak speak?”

“Russian and English,” he responds after thinking about it. “He helps teach art to kids who are living in shelters. He also goes with some of the other artists to do soulmark sketches.”

“That’s almost unbelievable that we all became teachers!” she exclaims as she sets the pen down.

He nods, having thought something similar about himself and his soulmates. He never did figure out the odds for his soulmates to both be spies and ex-military while he’s a hacker with a lot of unusual skills because of an unusual parent.

They spend a bit longer talking before he bids them goodbye because he can tell Alec’s nerves are fraying. They happily say goodbye, promising to keep in touch. Not that he actually believes that will happen.

For a while they walk around the city, his Sansha showing him important locations, many of which he learned nothing about in his history classes. That’s not surprising though, Alec and Dayesi both like to study the past and know a great deal about many things records.

The following morning Alec has an appointment with a contact in town, so he is going to go house searching with an estate agent. He’s hoping to find a few that he can show Alec in two days so they can pick one together. First though, he has to find at least one he likes.

Dinner is a quiet affair before they retire back to their room to spend the evening just being together.

In the morning Alec is hesitant about leaving him with the estate agent because it’s not a man that his soulmate knows.

“Sansha, I know more about him than his priest probably knows,” he murmurs reassuringly in Russian, keeping his voice pitched so only his soulmate can hear him.

“That’s not always a good thing, Vansha,” the older man replies in Russian, blue-green eyes flickering over to the estate agent.

“Would it make you feel better if someone from one of our networks was with me?” he queries, having considered that might be necessary and done research ahead of time. They have two people from the networks he can call on safely. One is a fellow hacker who he helped find her triad. The other is a member of Aither’s network, a genderfluid charmer who enjoys a good grift.

“Do we have someone here that can be trusted?” his Sansha asks, brows furrowing in concentration.

“One from Aither’s and one of mine,” he answers with a smile.

“I would prefer you being with someone who can be trusted,” his soulmate mutters, “Which of yours?”

“Alice, hacker, found her soulmates. Both French,” he replies, “I helped get her papers and it’s how I met Lo.” Tipping his head thoughtfully, he comments, “Lo’s sister lives in the area too.”

“Which of Aither’s?” Alec asks, eyes still narrow.

“Jamie,” he answers, “One of the grifters that she hires for not quite legal tasks because of zher ability to blend in a lot of situations.”

“I don’t know either,” Alec mutters in frustration.

He grins, commenting, “Alice was a street kid.”

“Then take Alice with you, if she’ll do it,” his soulmate suggests.

He thinks about it and comments, “I think Jamie would be better. Grifters are great at knowing value, it’s one of their biggest talents.”

“Take both?” Alec proposes, “I don’t know most of your street kids, but the ones I do know will back you in any situation.”

“Okay, I’ll give them a call.” He agrees, understanding his Sansha’s hesitation.

“Thank you,” the spy murmurs, lightly kissing him before stepping back. Switching to French, his soulmate bids him, “Call if you need anything.”

He nods, smiling slowly, “Of course, the same applies.”

After nodding in agreement, Alec takes a deep breath, turns and leaves, barely acknowledging the estate agent.

He pulls the cell phone out of his pocket and calls up both, having quick conversations and both agree to meet in fifteen minutes in the lobby of his hotel.

“I almost forgot I was supposed to meet some friends so they are going to come with us if that’s alright?” he queries of the estate agent.

“Of course,” Guy replies smoothly, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Would you care for a drink while we wait for them to show up?” he asks politely. “They shouldn’t take too long.”

The estate agent nods, “That would be nice, how about we discuss what sort of property you are looking for too?”

He nods, ordering himself a fresh tea and letting Guy order his own coffee. The time between when he called the two and when they show up is filled with discussion on what sort of house they are looking for.  It’s a comfortable conversation with him discounting some of Guy’s suggestions just based on what is said.

“Isha!” Alice exclaims when she spots them, her movements fast as she approaches. “I forgot you were in town this week or we would have had you over for dinner before things got busy. Roxane is in New York at a cooking school for the next three weeks, and Miryam is doing a dance retreat.”

Standing, he accepts the hug he knows is coming, greeting his fellow hacker warmly, “Hello Alice,” turning, he motions to the estate agent, “This is Guy Bouchard.”

“Mmmhmmm,” she hums as she looks at the estate agent, “Hi, I’m Alice Wiesner.”

For a few minutes the two exchange pleasantries, he hides a smirk behind his drink because he knows exactly what she is doing. She’s accessing how much of a threat Guy is. A common habit among the street kids and orphans he knows, she was both prior to coming to the shelter and finding her soulmates.

He knows when Jamie gets there because he hears the silence that suddenly sweeps over the room. Turning, he bites back a chuckle, because apparently the genderfluid grifter has gone with wealthy male for today’s appearance, but also with flashy if the earring cuff and shiny silver buttons and cuffs are anything to go by.

“Hello Jamie,” he greets the grifter. ”Have you met Alice yet?”

“No, I haven’t,” zhe replies, turning to smile at the hacker and offering a hand, “Jamie Gray.”

“Alice Wiesner,” she responds, eyes sweeping over the genderfluid grifter.  

“Guy Bouchard,” the estate agent introduces himself when the grifter turns towards him.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Jamie just about purrs.

“Yourself as well,” Guy replies, but his expression seems a bit lost.

“Shall we get going?” he asks curiously, looking forward to watching the interactions between his little group. Perhaps he can recruit Guy to the network. Having someone in real estate would be very useful.

They go through fifteen different houses, discussing the merits of each, with Jamie often being the one to point out the flaws and weakness of the houses. They find two that have potential. When they get back to the hotel hours later, Alec is waiting for them, eyes narrowing on his companions.

In a flash, he understands exactly what part of the problem is. Alec’s jealous. Why is his soulmate jealous?

Shaking his head, he has to ask Jamie to repeat what zhe said.

Smiling mischievously, the genderfluid grafter asks, “Doing this again tomorrow?”

He glances at Alec, answering almost distractedly, “Probably, I got to see what his schedule is like.”

“Perfect, let me know,” Jamie responds, turning towards Guy and asking bluntly, “Mind if I take you to dinner?”

The estate agent blinks in shock, looking a bit lost for a moment before agreeing with a nod.

“I’m going to get going so I can make dinner for Miryam,” Alice tells him, giving him another hug before waving at his Sansha and leaving

“See you tomorrow,” Jamie tells him, guiding Guy out of the lobby.

Shaking his head, he heads over to his soulmate, lightly touching his spy’s hand and querying, “Go up to our room or go get something to eat?”

“We’ll get room service.” Alec replies, eyes searching his face as if looking for something.

Smiling, he takes hold of his Sansha’s hand before turning towards the lift.

The ride upstairs is quiet, but brimming with energy between them. He’s fairly sure they are going to have some sort of confrontation in their suite. It’s just a matter of getting there to have it.


	90. Jealousy

Alec’s POV  
He can still clearly remember when Jon was kidnapped and that was when they were somewhere familiar. Now they are in an unfamiliar city, at least for his Vansha, and he has a meeting with a terrorist group that he stopped working with last year. So he is very leery of his soulmate going off house hunting with just an estate agent he doesn’t know. When his hacker offers to call a couple of people from the networks he jumps on it, because that way there is a high chance of Jon staying safe.

His meeting goes about how he expected and he ends up putting bullets in three different people’s heads after taking their guns from them to do so. Two of the others decide it’s best to just accept his choice. Or so they say. He’ll be watching out to make sure they really do.

When he gets back to the hotel first, his instincts seem to flare to life and a sense of dread fills him. He quickly leaves the room to head to the lobby to wait. What if the two weren’t enough protection and something happened to Jon? Should he go hunting for them? He doesn’t even know what houses they were going to look at so they could be anywhere.

The panic that something happened to his soulmate fades almost as quickly as it came to life when he spots the hacker and his companions entering the building.

It is replaced by an overwhelming feeling of possessiveness and jealousy. His Vansha is with two men and Alice. That isn’t really an issue. It’s not uncommon for Jon to be with people of all genders, even ones he hasn’t quite understood yet. The problem is the one on the left, who’s taller and more muscular, without any sort of scars in sight, keeps touching his Rowan’s arm and Jon’s just going along with it, seemingly happy to be touched.

It is only his training as a double-o that keeps him from snarling at the man when they get closer.

Then he watches the way the other man, the one with the flashy earring and silver everywhere gives Jon a quick hug, asking about tomorrow and he just wants to strangle the stranger.

Jon’s hazel amber eyes glance at him speculatively, almost as if his Vansha knows what he is thinking. Only that’s not possible there is no such thing as telepathy. At least as far as he has been able to tell.

Alice is the first to leave, amusement dancing over her features. Then the two men leave, and he gets the impression that something more is going on between them.

Good, he thinks a bit viciously, let them bother each other, Jon’s _his_.

Smiling at him warmly, his soulmate touches his hand lightly as the hacker queries, “Go up to our room or go get something to eat?”

“We’ll get room service,” he answers a bit gruffly, wanting to get away from all of these people.

Still smiling, his Vansha’s fingers curl around his and tug on him lightly to head towards the lift.

All he wants to do is pull the smaller man into his arms and kiss Jon until his soulmate forgets that there are other, better options.

Almost as soon as they are out of the lift, he spins  them so Vansha’s back is to the wall, hands coming up to hold the smaller man’s face between rough palms as he possessively hisses, ” _Mine_.”

For a moment Jon melts into the kiss, long fingers curling into his clothes before he is startled by the hacker shoving him backwards and darting past him.

Blinking, because he is pretty sure his Rowan liked it, at least some, he turns to pursue the younger man. Stalking through the suite to the bedroom.

“We’re talking first, then we can get to what you started.” Jon informs him firmly.

He nearly snarls. Talking is _not_ what he wants to do. There is nothing to talk about.

“I’m not sure why you’re jealous, but if you don’t want to see some of the tricks Aither and Dayesi taught me being used, you need to calm down.” His Rowan orders him.

He freezes, eyes narrowing on the hacker, trying to decide exactly what sort of tricks the ladies might have taught Jon. He doesn’t know about Aither, but Dayesi has a lot of very handy tricks, and any one of them would work in this situation since he’s not actually willing to harm his Vansha.

“Now, why are you jealous?” The hacker asks seriously.

Wanting to growl, he snaps, “They kept touching you.”

That seems to startle his Vansha. Hazel amber eyes narrow, seeming to turn green gray as he watches. A small frown curls the younger man’s lips. “So? I get touched by street kids and orphans all the time. You’ve never reacted like this before.”

“They’re not street kids or orphans,” he retorts angrily.

“Alec Anthony Trevelyan, you will sit down and calm yourself immediately.” Jon commands him, pointing at the bed, eyes blazing with fury.

He blinks because it has been years since he heard his middle name. He never understood why his parents didn’t use the Russian custom for naming him when two of his three parents were Russian. With his mind whirling, he sits down heavily on the edge of the bed. This is it, Jon’s going to leave. He’s finally pushed the hacker too far.

Calloused fingers lightly cup his jaw, thumbs gently stroking over his skin. “Talk with me, Alec. This doesn’t work if you don’t talk. I thought we were past the reacting on instinct. Why are you jealous?”

He closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see the disappointment and anger, voice rough when he answers, “You’re mine.” Instinct is pretty much all he has left. It’s hard not to react on them when he sees a threat to what he’s been building with his hacker. He’s well aware the fact they are soulmates won’t keep Jon with him if something better comes along. It couldn’t even keep James with him.

“You’re an idiot,” his Vansha tells him fondly. “No more acting like a fool. It is not alright to get all jealous because another man touched my shoulder or arm.”

He blinks up at the hacker, trying to process the combination of idiot and the warmth in Jon’s voice. They don’t really go together. His Vansha is still touching him, still here. That doesn’t make sense. Why didn’t his Rowan leave like expected?

“You’re a well trained spy, being suspicious is second nature.” Jon comments, absently switching to Scottish Gaelic half way through the speaking, “However, none of this jealousy shit is acceptable. We’re both possessive. That’s fine, we’re honest about it. But acting like an arse just because you’re feeling possessive needs to stop.”

He leans into the contact, enjoying the way his Vansha touches him without caring about the scars, like Jon wants to touch him.

“One of these days you’ll realize I’m not worth keeping around and leave me for a pretty face, one that doesn’t come with the baggage or scars.” He mutters, turning his head to kiss a palm.

“You really are an idiot sometimes.” His Vansha tells him, sounding like the hacker’s trying not to laugh. “Jamie’s got scars, zhe’s a street kid, became one because zher parents didn’t want to accept a genderfluid teenager as their offspring. Zhe became a grifter because it was a way to escape that life. Aither trusts Jamie at her back, and you know there aren’t a lot of people like that. But then the two of them have known each other for longer than I have known Aither.”

“What about the other one?” he asks.

“Guy? If Guy doesn’t have scars now, he will sometime in the future as he goes through top surgery. I didn’t pay attention to whether he had a binder on or not. It doesn’t interest me.” Jon answers with a shrug. “His job is to show me houses so you and I can take a look at them and maybe buy one.”

Top surgery or binder? He repeats in his head, there’s something familiar about both but it takes him a minute to figure it out. Once he does, he smiles in relief, there is no threat there. “I’ll try not to jump to conclusions.” He promises, “Not that I can guarantee it’ll work.”

Nipping the tip of his nose, his Vansha responds almost playfully, “I’ve put too much work into you to let some stranger ruin things. Remember that next time, or you’re going to face plant against a wall in hopes it will knock some common sense in your brain.”

He just laughs, because his Rowan is mostly non-violent but when the hacker feels there is a reason to be violent, he’s quick and to the point.

There will probably be more talking in the near future, for now, well he’s going to see if they can get back to the kissing.


	91. Retribution

Alec’s POV  
It takes them two weeks between when they get home and when the arrangements come through for them to get everything ready in order to move. It could probably be done in less time, but his Vansha insists on doing things the legal way for the most part. Valentin doesn’t take the news too well, but the rest of his triad took it even worse.

A third week is used for them actually settling into the new house, the documents aren’t completely done, but the sale is almost a sure thing.

Once they have the house set up, Jon calls Guy in order to look at commercial properties. He’s aware that his soulmate is planning on setting up shelters here, along with another branch of the soulmark site.

It is while Jon is gone that a messenger delivers an envelope with pictures of his soulmate with the estate agent, and the subtle threat -You shouldn’t have turned your back on us.-

Fury rips through him. How dare someone threaten his Vansha?

Heading to Jon’s office, he turns on the earwigs, knowing his soulmate is currently using one.

“Jon,” he states to catch the hackers attention.

 _’Is something wrong?’_ his Rowan asks less than a minute later.

“You’ve been threaten, someone has pictures of you with the estate agent.” He answers, voice icy cold.

 _’I’ll be home shortly.’_ The hacker tells him promptly, then suggests, _‘Call Dayesi so she can come over and you can start plotting.’_

“Stay safe,” he responds instead of agree or disagreeing about his fellow spy.

Grabbing the phone, he calls his third, filling her in on the situation and smirking at the cold fury in her tone. Apparently they are going to destroy those responsible, which is fine by him. Just because he is turning most things legal to lessen the amount of risk to his soulmate doesn’t mean that he is any less Janus then he was before. Someone is definitely going to learn that lesson right before they die.

Less than an hour later, Jon is on his laptop, fingers flying over keys, earwig on as the hacker speaks with his best friend and fellow hacker.

In the dining room, he sits with Dayesi and Raskova, discussing what information they were able to pull from contacts in a relatively short period of time. He’s surprised when there is a knock at the front door, because no one should be coming over. Pulling his gun out of the weapon harness, he slowly crosses to the door, glancing at the small monitor that Jon installed so he wouldn’t have to open it to see who is on the other side.

“What the fuck?” he mutters when he realizes that it’s Jamie on the other side of the door.

Lowering his gun, but not putting it away, he jerks the door open.

“Where’s Q10?” the grifter asks as she – he – they, he’s not sure what to call Jamie, breezes through the door.

“His office,” he answers, eyes narrow.

“Did he pick the room with no windows but great venting?” James queries as the grifter continues down the hall.

“Yes,” he replies testily, getting annoyed.

“Use ‘he’, it’s simpler to remember,” the grifter tells him. “Don’t worry, I don’t want Q10, he’s not quite my type,” Jamie glances at him mischievously, a look he has seen on lover’s faces before flashing in dark brown eyes, “you on the other hand...” the words are said suggestively, but he finds himself unsure of how he feels about that. “Go do whatever you were doing before,” the con artist suggests, “I’m only making a delivery.”

“Jamie, do you have the list?” Jon asks popping out of his office.

“Right here,” the grifter responds, holding up a disk.

“Perfect,” his soulmate hums, grabbing it and turning back to towards the laptop and putting it in. “Thanks for this,” the hacker comments.

“Well, I work for Aither, and she expressly said to treat you like I would her,” the grifter reasons. “Which means if I like my skin where it’s at, no running a game on you, and occasionally gather intel.”

“I wouldn’t skin you,” his Vansha replies absently.

“You might not, but I think your significant other here would.” Jamie retorts, “What is it with you hackers liking big Russians?”

“They make excellent lovers and don’t require being taught to protect themselves because they’re already suspicious enough for four people.” Jon answers, turning towards him to comment, “I can give you the address of the head of the bratva.”

His eyes narrow and he smirks, “Perfect.”

“Just let me borrow a satellite from somewhere to get some fresh images so you know what you are walking into.” His Vansha suggests.

He nods in agreement, knowing that his hacker will have the information for him shortly.

Fifteen minutes later his soulmate brings a small folder in the dining room, eyes dark gray with only the barest hints of amber, “Here’s all the information on them. Once I had a physical address it was a lot easier to get even more information.”

Jon’s voice is pure ice, the same sort of tone that was used when referring to the landlord who allowed two young triads to die of the cold. So he knows that there is something more than he was already aware of going on.

He nods slowly, “We’ll deal with them,” he promises, glancing at Dayesi to see her nod in agreement.

Accepting the papers, his eyes quickly scan the layout and how the people seem to be set up over the last two hours of scans. Because apparently there was already a satellite pointing in the area, it was just a matter of figuring out how to access it, something his Vansha excels at.

The next hour the four of them spend planning their attack. They shouldn’t have threatened Jon, and Jon doesn’t like something that they do, which means even if he wasn’t going after them, their lives would get very difficult in the near future. Unfortunately for them, him and morals are two words that are rarely used on the same sentence, and he’s going to  slaughter  them. Apparently the crime world needs a reminder why he is not to be crossed.

Another hour passes before they put on the ops gear. Dayesi’s eyes gleam with the same sort of determination as his. Neither of them takes threats to their small family very well.

Slipping his earwig in, he turns to smile at his soulmate who is waiting by the door, gray eyes stormy.

“I’ll warn you of any changes in threats and if there is anything that might affect the outcome of this mission,” his hacker tells him.

He closes the space between them, smiling when Jon’s hand runs along the side of his face and brushes that stubborn lock of hair that seems to always fall over his forehead back, “Stay safe.”

“Always,” he replies, dipping his head slightly to slot their mouths together and kiss his Vansha.

Low laughter draws his attention away from his soulmate.

Glancing at Dayesi and a breathless Raskova, he snorts, “Like you weren’t just doing the same thing.”

She smiles mischievously.

With one more light kiss, he leaves the house, heading to the car in order to head towards their target. Time to go wreak havoc and remind people why not to piss of Janus.


	92. Welcome Home

Alec's POV  
He's still energized from the mission when he comes striding into the house they are currently staying in France. He's pretty sure that they will be purchasing it, sometime in the near future since Jon has already made some of the arrangements to do so.

Silently moving through the house, he finds Jon in their bedroom, laptop on his legs as he plays around.

"Hello love," the younger man murmurs as he closes the laptop and sets it aside.

His eyes rake hotly over his slender genius. Fluffy black curls look like Jon just woke up, even though he knows for a fact his Rowan has been awake for a while. Hazel amber eyes watch him close the door and stride towards the bed. While a playful smile curves the younger man's lips. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips as he realizes that the only thing Vansha is wearing is the blankets.

"Hello Jon," he replies roughly.

Tipping his head, his Rowan studies him, the playful smile growing. Shifting to sitting on his knees, the blankets slip down, just barely covering the younger man's hips.  

"You're overdressed," Vansha comments as he moves closer to the foot of the bed, letting the blankets fall away the rest of the way.

"Am I?" he replies lightly stepping so he is just out of reach.

"Definitely," his hacker answers with a knowing look.

Climbing off the bed, the smaller man closes the space between them, head tipping to the side as their lips slot together softly. Slender fingers smooth along the front of his tactical suit, deftly unfastening the buckles holding it shut.

His hands come up to span across narrow hips, thumbs stroking over hip bones.

"I missed you, even if I could talk to you all I wanted through the earwigs," Jon confesses softly. A small smirk curves the younger man's lips as he reaches up to brush against his ear, "Speaking of those," those nimble fingers pluck his out, clicking it off before tossing it to the bedside table, "these aren't needed right now."

Chuckling, he dips his head to nibble at the junction between shoulder and throat.

His Rowan tips his head to the side, giving him better access as those fingers go back to unbuckling him.

When his jacket is opened, Jon slips his hands inside it, pushing it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Long fingers run down his front, stroking his chest before tugging his dark t-shirt out of his trousers. His shirt is quickly tugged up over his head, forcing him to stop worrying on that spot for the time it takes to toss it.

As soon as it's out of the way, Vansha's hands seem like they are everywhere. They map his skin with a familiarity born of years, seeking any new marks that might have been caused while he was gone and relearning the ones that have been here for years.

"I like this welcome home," he murmurs, scattering kisses across Jon's jaw and throat, "Wasn't expecting it."

A soft huff of laughter escapes the smaller man, hands toying with the top of his trousers. "I'll remember that for later." His Rowan sasses, "See what other variations I can come up with."

The thought of finding Jon wearing nothing at all in most of the rooms has him hard faster than he'd expect. The idea that the only reason his Rowan is doing this for him has him close to the edge without ever being touched. He'd love to come home to find his lover sprawled on the sofa with nothing but a roaring fire to keep him warm.

"What," Vansha presses a kiss to his throat, "are," more kisses going upwards, "you," light suction applied to the spot behind his ear, “thinking,” nibbles on the rim of his ear, breath hot against his skin,  "about?"

While the smaller man is pressing kisses to his jaw, nimble fingers unfasten his trousers, slipping inside them to stroke him through his pants, causing his hips to rock into the touch.

His hands slide down and back, cupping the younger man's rear as he lifts Vansha up, smirking when his lover's long legs wrap around him almost instantly. He sets Jon on the bed, hands roaming all over the smaller man's body. Stroking upwards over smooth lithe muscles and back down again.

Leaning forward, he presses kisses to Jon's flesh, peppering gentle bites and suction as he goes. He traces their soulmark downwards. Taking his time following every branch and leaf. Licking and sucking, kissing and biting as he makes his way, causing the skin to change to a lovely shade of pink around the mark.

"Alec," his lover gasps when he bites down just a little harder on the lowest point of his Rowan's ribs.

He smirks, continuing downwards, paying attention to the prominent hip bone. Lifting his lover’s legs, he settles them on his shoulders as he continues inwards, paying attention to everything except his lover's cock which is only now getting hard.

When they had first started having intimate relations it used to feel like he was doing something wrong when his Rowan wasn't hard. It had taken some convincing before he realized that sex just wasn't as high on Jon's agenda, and his body was slower to react because of that.

He takes his time playing with Vansha's bollocks, enjoying the mewling sounds that escape his lover's lips.

His tongue runs along to his lover's hole, surprising him when he discovers the taste of cherry lube and the fact Jon's already stretched, at least a bit.

"I was hoping it might go this way when you got home," Vansha breathlessly tells him, rolling his hips.

Smirking, he takes his time lapping at the smaller man, enjoying the way his lover squirms. Jon did a thorough job, though not quite enough for him to actually take his lover at this point, so he is going to enjoy himself as he finishes the job.

He drops to his knees for the time being, leaving Jon on the edge of the bed and at the perfect height for him to indulge. Above him, the smaller man is makes all sorts of lovely noises, soft moans and drawn out groans, hisses of pleasure and little mewling gasps. When he is sure that his love is a quivering mess, he works one finger in beneath his tongue, searching for that lovely bundle of nerves that will have his Rowan writhing in pleasure. Taking his time, he works in a second finger and eventually a third, making sure to thoroughly stretch his Rowan.

"Alec!" his love just about demands, voice breaking.

Smirking, he gives one last lick before he kisses his way back up, tongue running along Jon's cock before he continues upwards, his hands shove his trousers and pants down out of the way but doesn't bother taking them off the rest of the way before he carefully lines them up.

Before he has a chance to do anything more, Vansha wraps his legs around his hips and rolls himself closer, just about impaling himself and sighing happily.

Something between a chuckle and a groan escapes his lips as his hips jerk in response, burying him even further within his hacker.

"Trousers off," Jon gasps, heels pushing them further down, "join me all the way on the bed."

He takes hold of the smaller man's hips, holding him still while he thrusts. "You remember the boots," he mutters, not an actual question but just a fact.

Growling, the smaller man's eyes narrow, a moment later Jon gives a tug with his hips, pulling him downwards. Almost as soon as he starts to fall forward, the hacker twists them around, a trick he's not sure he could replicate, and makes it so his Rowan is on top.

"There," his Rowan smirks, "Now wanna see flexible?"

Groaning, his hands tighten their hold on the smaller man's hips. "Yes," he hisses.

"Keep hold of my hips," his Rowan tells him before arching his back and reaching up and behind him.

It changes the angle he's inside Jon, making him gasp because it also tightens the muscles around him. Deftly, his soulmate pulls his trousers out of the way, unlaces his boots, and pushes them off. His trousers and pants follow close behind but his socks are left alone as the smaller man slowly straightens back up, starting with his arms and ending with his torso.

"How are you so flexible?" he asks breathlessly.

Grinning, Jon leans in to kiss him, which changes the angle again, and this time he is the one to roll them, landing so his lover is below him, his weight braced on his knees and he changes the way his arms are positioned so he can use them to hold his body weight.

Several minutes are spent with them kissing each other slowly, deeply, letting the passion build between them. Every movement is languid, almost lazy he teases Jon with slow withdrawal and even slower thrusting. His hands touch everything he can reach, stroking and petting his lover.

"You're a tease," Vansha gasps when he shifts angles to hit that magical bundle of nerves.

He smirks, keeping his slow pace, because he is enjoying all the noises he is dragging from his lover.

Originally he had been thinking of a quick tumble between the sheets followed by a nice long cuddle, only that plan got derailed by the fact he got home to Jon in nothing but a sheet and apparently feeling playful. So he changed his plans, deciding to spend time teasing and making love to his Rowan instead. Even better, his lover seems to agree with that plan, because otherwise the smaller man would have already done something to speed things along.

"You're thinking again," his lover gasps breathlessly, "I must be doing something wrong," the glint in his hacker's eyes is mischievous more than anything.

"Only," he presses a soft kiss to the underside of Jon's jaw. "Of," he nibbles his way over to an ear. "You," he makes his way across his Rowan's face to the other ear.

A warm smile curves the smaller man's lips, long-fingered hands skimming up to stroke the sides of his face before sinking into his hair.

The only warning he gets before Vansha decides to roll them once more is the way his Rowan's hazel eyes narrow just before he tightens his entire body and shifts them. Slowly, the smaller man sits up, rolling his hips in a slow circle.

Chuckling, he doesn't shift them again, instead he plants his feet and thrusts up to meet every roll of Jon's hips until they are both breathless in need.

It's the litany of his name falling from his lover's lips that finally pushes him over the edge. This time when he flips them, there is nothing slow or teasing about his movement. He pushes them closer to the edge, and over with a low groan of pleasure. Jon comes first and it’s the way his love's body tightens that sends him over that edge.

He just barely manages to catch himself before he collapses on top the smaller man, and pulls out, falling to the side, long limbs draped over Jon's body possessively. One of them should probably get up to get a rag but he's comfortable where he is.

Jon apparently doesn't have that problem, because just a few moments after he snuggles in, thinking of taking a nap, the smaller man wiggles out of his grasp and heads to the en suite to grab a warm flannel and get them cleaned up. Once that is done, his hacker manages to maneuver them under the blankets before turning the lights out and curling back up with him.

"I'm happy you're home," Jon mumbles sleepily. "I don't like sleeping alone."

His arms tighten around his Rowan, easily remembering a time when Jon had a hard time sleeping beside him and was awake every time he moved or his breathing changed the slightest bit.

"Sweet dreams, Vanyushka," he murmurs, lightly kissing the top of Jon's head.


	93. Pissed Off Hackers

Jon’s POV  
Six months after they moved to Paris he gets a page on the earpiece from a very irate Aither.

“What’s wrong?” he asks once he turns on the mic.

 _’Those assholes Sparks is related to decided to come and take him, to make him learn his place or die._ ’ she snarls, cold fury and hot rage echoed in her tone.

“Then let’s deal with them.” He replies, heading to his office to boot up his system. “I take it you’re going after him?”

 _’Hell yes I am going after him! Sparks is mine!’_ she snarls, voice immediately calming, _’Sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you.’_

“Meh, it’s fine, I understand the anger. If someone ever made the mistake of taking one of ours, and it wasn’t part of a plan, well, Alec might be the assassin of our pair, but I know how to cry havoc too.” He responds understandingly, “Do you know where they are?”

He can hear her forcing herself to calm down, and hear the sound of her driving in the background. _’No. I was on the road when the text message code came through.’_

“Then that’s first.” He decides as he sets to looking up Sparks’ phone. “Who all do you have in your team?”

 _’Falco and a new guy named Malcolm,’_ she replies after a moment adding, _’Got a few street kids too, but I’d rather leave them out of this mess.’_

“I don’t think it’s going to matter,” he remarks calmly. “They’re on a plane, and it is my guess they are going to Russia. Bad move on their part. I’ll have you a flight cleared in the time it takes you to get to the airport. Isn’t Falco a pilot?”

 _’Yes,’_ she agrees, _’he is, but I don’t know if he is close enough.’_

He smirks even though she can’t see it, “That’s alright, I see someone who owes me a favor in the city. He’ll fly you over. You’ll just need to get Falco to take you home. I’m shutting off the earwig for a moment to make the call.”

 _’Fine,’_ she nearly hisses, but he understands she is aggravated with what’s happening and not him.

The phone call is quick. Some would even call it a bit tense. He understands of course, he’s asking the pilot to make a ten flight with little to no warning. Still, Jacob agrees, they call it even for two of the three favors owed. When he gets back on the line, Aither has already spoken with Falco who will be getting the jet ready to go in order to pick her up.

“Your ride is waiting,” he tells her when she comes back on the coms. “Do you still keep an arsenal in the car?”

 _‘Of course,’_ she responds, _’Non-metal too so it isn’t detected by metal detectors but still very effective.’_

“Good, take it with you, whatever you need Dayesi will have and will be waiting for you.” He informs her as he sends a quick message to his soulmate’s third in command and fellow assassin. “I’ll also set some of mine to harassing the bratva.  Pyotr still maintains the Russian branch of the mercenaries, so you will have plenty of backup for cleaning the mess up.”

He can just about hear the smirk, _‘There will definitely be a mess.’_

“I’ll make the arrangements here, and forward them to your phone so you know what’s going on. Jacob, your pilot, is a decent sort, if on the wrong side of legal most the time. Still, he has an honor code.”

 _’Don’t we meet the most interesting people?’_ she queries with a snicker.

“Of course, because we’re so dull ourselves.” He retorts, rolling his eyes at the screen as he makes the arrangements.

 _’Thank you Jon,’_ she tells him softly, almost quiet enough for the mic to have a hard time picking up.

“Always Aither.” He promises sincerely, then suggests, “Take a nap on the flight. You’ll need the energy for reminding people why it’s not wise to mess with us.”

While Aither is on the flight to Russia, he makes all the arrangements between Dayesi, Lilya, and Pyotr. When Alec gets home, his soulmate asks what’s going on since he has pretty much commandeered the Janus network. Of course he explains it in rapid fire and short sentences, thankful his Sansha is smart enough to keep up.

“Do you want me to go help?” Alec offers afterwards.

Spinning his chair around to face his soulmate, he answers with a warm smile, “No Sansha, this is one she needs to deal with to make a point. Dayesi is going as a sniper, Pyotr’s in charge of cleanup, which he’s not thrilled about, and Lilya gets to fix any damage done to Sparks.”

His spy nods slowly in understanding. “Understandable logic.”

“It’s still going to be a bloodbath, because she’s out for it, and they have no clue what sort of morals she’s lacking. Had she not carved herself a place, then CIA or MI6 would have been smart to recruit her, alas,” he snickers, “they missed that chance around the time we became friends.”

Alec laughs at that, nodding again, “Very true.”

He turns back to the computer, collecting information on the fools who took their friend. Aither’s not the only one who’d light the world on fire for those she cares about. If someone ever took his Alec, or one of his small family they’d find themselves in hell faster than they’d be able to believe.

By the time Aither lands in Moscow, everything is ready.

Turning the earwigs on, he asks, “Ready to raise hell?”

 _’Yes,’_ she damn near hisses, _’Also, can I recruit him to keep?’_

He laughs, because he thought the same thing in the past. “Sadly, he has his own crew of mischief makers, he just happened to owe me a few favors.”

 _’Well, if he ever becomes recruitable, recruit him or tell me so I can.’_ She comments, _’I see a motorcycle!’_ She just about sings.

“It’s one of my designs. Pyotr dropped it off before going to get the cleanup crew ready.” He replies with a chuckle. “Alec has assured me the changes can be fun. All the information about compound layout, security, and people is on the nav system. If you switch the earwig to upload, it will read it to you while you drive.”

 _’Perfect,’_ she agrees.

She’s quiet while she listens to the file he compiled.

He keeps track of the locations for her, Dayesi who is just getting into place as a sniper, and Sparks based on the phone. Someone was really stupid for leaving the phone with the street fighter. Did they think because it’s an older model it couldn’t be traced? Apparently they didn’t do any research as to who Sparks works with. Otherwise they would have known better.

When she is roughly half mile away, she shuts the bike down and parks it.

“Saddle bags have extra throwing knives. They’re weighed for me, so you should have no issues with them.” He tells her, “There are also two hand guns.”

 _’Dae or Alec?’_ she asks a moment later. _’These look like his.’_

“Dae,” he answers with a snicker, “Although they probably are his because I tend to customize his to make them more dangerous.”’

 _’Excellent,’_ she hums, _’Time to fetch Sparks and remind them why they shouldn’t piss off a hacker.’_

“Their security system is under my control,” he informs her. “The best entrance is on the west side, south corner. They do not have coverage with man power there.”

The next hour is a blood bath. Aither gets nicked by a bullet just before she puts a knife in the man’s throat, and continues on, collecting each knife as she goes. All of the security and milling about people find themselves having a very bad day. He’s actually relieved that there are only adults in the building, particularly considering the way she’s systematically clearing each room. He knows when she reaches Sparks because of the nearly silent hiss of anger.

 _’Well fuck,’_ she mutters, backing away from the room for a moment. _’Any ideas for how I can get in there? They’ve got the room sealed and attacking straight through the door has me on line of sight for all six people with a gun.’_

“Actually,” he replies with a mischievous smile, “I do.”

 _’Really?’_ she queries curiously. _’Is someone going to have a bad day?’_

“An extremely bad day,” he comments, “How much blood is on you?”

 _’Probably less than there should be,’_ she answers, tone still curious. _’Can’t you see with the cameras?’_

“I had to kill the halls cameras because I couldn’t spoof them due to the setup used.” He states mournfully.

 _’I can easily go get more blood on me, will I need more blood?’_ She ask after a moment.

“Do it, also get me one of the dead guys prepaid numbers.” He orders as his fingers fly over the keys, he has an idea. “They’re going to come to you, and we’re playing the bluff game.”

He can practically hear her smirk, _’You mean the one where I toy with a knife and make everyone nervous as fuck?’_

“That’d be the one.” He responds, smiling at her glee, he should really look into getting a therapist for all of them. Only, he can quite clearly remember that not working when Valentin paid for a year’s worth of visits for Alec and him to see someone during that first year they were together. “They’ll want to disarm you. Are you wearing your katars?”

 _’Of course, I haven’t used them yet today,’_ she replies with a snort, as if she would be without them.

“Perfect, when they disarm you, make a show of putting all throwing knives and blades down, leave them on, you’ll need them,” he directs her as he finishes getting the message ready. “Ready?”

 _’As I’ll ever be,’_ she agrees firmly.

“Let’s ruin their day,” he remarks, hitting send.


	94. Goodbye Balakhnov Bratva

Sparks’ POV  
When he wakes up on a plane, his brother’s ugly mug being the first thing he sees, he groans. After six years his family has finally decided to come for him.

“Good, you’re awake,” Luka remarks. “Father has been patient with you, but no more.”

“You’ve signed your death certificate,” he mutters, throat sore from where he was choked out to knock him out. “And I won’t say a word against it.”

“Please, who will hurt us? That woman? She’s American, there is nothing she can do.” His brother scoffs, disdain and disbelief filling his brother’s voice.

He just closes his eyes. If Aither doesn’t come for him for some reason, Jon, and that means Alec will. Their group is fiercely loyal and possessive. They’re not a large group, the core made up of Jon and Aither, with Alec, Dayesi, Pyotr, Lilya, and him being it. But all of them are protective of each other.

He knows he is in for a lot of pain. They are going to try and break him to their will. The first step will be torture. Since they want him to function when they are done, that limits some of what they will do, but it will still be quite bad. They may wait a few days, starve him and possibly even drug him.

When his brother gets up to speak with the pilot, he works his hand in his pocket, surprised to find that his phone is still there.

Bad call Luka, he thinks with dark amusement, I just have to send Aither the word ‘indigo’ and she’ll be on her way.

It takes him several tries but eventually he gets it sent before slipping the phone back in his pocket.

He closes his eyes, calming his body so that he will be ready for what’s to come. This is the entire reason he left his family in the first place. When he first met Aither he had been leery of the small gang she seemed to run. All of them street kids, most of them female, all of them able to defend themselves and others if need be. They took on bigger and stronger gangs, often winning by using sneak attacks and tactics he’d never expect from a woman. The local law enforcement left her and her group alone, appreciating the fact that most of them were focused on ending the violence and protecting children and small families.

She ran a gang, but it wasn’t like anything he had ever experienced before, and he respected her for that. The fact that she was deadly fast with her knives and a hacker just made her interesting. Where had she learned those skills? It’s a question he still doesn’t know the answer to, and he’s been with her for years.

His brother starts talking when Luka returns from the cockpit but he doesn’t listen to words said. Maybe he should but knowing his brother it’s all about how he has betrayed the family and how he deserves what’s coming to him. It really is too bad. He loved his siblings once, back before they let the idea of being better than everyone get to their head, back before their family became a huge bratva. He knows, wherever he ends up, every adult will soon be dead. He just hopes that there are no children there, because they don’t need to see the blood bath she’s going to leave in her wake.

When the plane lands he opens his eyes, forcing himself into a sitting position, which seems to amuse his brother to no end.

“We’re almost home now, do you still think she’ll come for you?” Luka sneers.

“She’d light the world on fire if she thought that’s what it’d take,” he replies with sardonic grin. “Aither’s not like the women you work with who are subservient to men. She doesn’t bow and she doesn’t give up.”

“She’s just a whore, like they all are in the end.” His brother snaps angrily.

“That’s right, your soulmate rejected you.” He mutters with a snicker. “Don’t worry brother, after her arrival, it won’t matter.”

He doesn’t fight as he is shoved into the car, and he doesn’t fight when they get out of the car either at the family compound. He doesn’t mention that Aither’s best friend is the hacker Q10 or that Q10’s soulmate is Aleksei Sokolov, better known as Janus. He doesn’t mention that Russia was the worst place to bring him. He doesn’t mention that Moscow hurried their deaths up. Instead he just moves as directed, dark amusement filling him.

Whatever they dish out will have nothing on the retaliation they are going to feel. They really should have left him alone. It would have given them longer life spans.

When he sees a child, no more than ten, he flinches.

The room he is led to is his father’s office, and he stands back straight and shoulders square before the old man. For some reason his father always seemed much bigger than he actually is.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Afanas?” the old man demands, glaring at him.

“Send the children away,” he replies calmly, not rising to the bait, he’s not the child that ran away anymore. “They don’t need to see the bloodbath that’s coming.”

His father roars with laughter, as if he made a joke.

When the laughter stops he decides to offer a deal. “Send the children away for seventy-two hours, if nothing happens in that time I will willing submit to the family’s will.”

“You are serious?” Anatoli mutters, staring at him in disbelief.

“Yes,” he answers bluntly.

“Send them to the safe house, all of them,” his father orders his brother who looks like he wants to argue but nods in agreement instead. “As for you, take him to a holding room. “

He doesn’t say anything, he knows that this place will burn within twenty-four hours. His time frame was just to make sure that none of the children would be caught in the crossfire.

He doesn’t know how long it is until he sees the little camera in the corner of the room’s light change color, a slow smile drawing across his face. It’s time.

His youngest brother and his brother’s soulmate come to fetch him, taking him back to his father’s office. Each camera they pass, he glances at, smile firmly in place as he sees the lights are no longer active.

“What is this?” his father demands, pointing at the screen and the fact almost all the cameras are offline.

He just laughs, earning him a solid punch to the stomach from Luka.

“Don’t you dare disrespect our father like that!” his older brother yells.

That just makes him laugh harder.

“I’m a street fighter,” he informs Luka with a smirk, “I’ve had women hit me harder.”

His brother's eyes fill with rage and he’s sure that the older man will attack him, however their father stops that with a sharply barked command.

“That’s death,” he answers the earlier question. “Did you even look into who I work with?” he blandly queries, as if it is no more important than the weather.

Every man in the room glares at him, his father’s mouth thinning in anger.

“Whoever it is will die, then you will do as I told you, and take your place in this family like you should have years ago!” Anatoli snarls at him.

He just laughs and he’s still laughing when the phone goes off, telling his father the perimeter is breached. He doesn’t actually stop laughing until his younger brother slams a bat into the back of his head, making him see double.

“Cheap shot, but it won’t save you.” He tells the teenager, almost sad that someone so young is about to die for a cause he should have never been involved in the first place.

The next time the phone goes off, his father motions to his brothers, ordering them, “Guard the door.”

He just crosses his legs and sits down. For one thing, he’s almost dizzy, for another Aither is either going to come in with gun blazing or with knives throwing. Either way, being out of the target zone is the best idea.

He’s startled when his father sends Luka out, until he realizes what she’s doing. This is Jon’s idea, he thinks tiredly, they’re not going to know what hit them.

“What the fuck?” his father snarls when the computer screen changes colors and words start scrawling across it.

At this angle he can’t see what’s being said but it is probably some sort of threat, promise, or goodbye knowing how sassy the hackers are.

“You know Janus?” his father demands angrily.

“Aleksei?” he drawls, head pounding, “I asked if you did any research. Looking into who I work for would have been smart. Wasn’t joking when I said death was coming.” His speech is nearly slurred by the time he finishes the sentence. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure he’s not the one who’s going to kill you.”

He sways in place, closing his eyes because the light is far too bright right now.

He doesn’t know how much time passes between when his brother leaves and gets back.

When he opens his eyes again, he meets furious silver gray with the lightest of blue eyes and recognizes exactly who came calling. Blinking, his gaze runs over her, checking for all her normal weapons, lips twitching upwards in a smirk when he realizes that she still has her katars on hand. That means they have no clue the sort of danger that they’re in.

“You’ve looked better Sparks.” She remarks calmly, ignoring the others in the room. Or so it probably appears to them.

His eyes flicker to the camera as he replies, “Bats will do that.”

Tisking, she comments, “Bat’s aren’t very polite now are they?”

“Listen, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you’re not Janus and we will do with you what I want,” his father blusters.

Immediately, her lips curl upwards in a smirk and she turns slowly, her fingers playing with the edge of her sleeves, in what the others probably think is a nervous habit. He could tell them it’s her getting ready to put her blades through their throats, but figures he’ll just sit here and watch instead.

“Aither di Straiti,” she announces, “That’s who I am. I am Q10’s sister, which makes me Janus’ sister-in-law.” Her smirk turns into a sharp smile, not one anyone would call kind, more like a shark’s actually. “I’m your death sentence.”

Before anyone can say anything the lights go out, he hears the triggers of her katars and the gurgling noise of someone choking in their blood. When the lights turn back on a moment later the only one left is his father who’s staring at her in horror.

“What are you?” Anatoli breaths just before the soft sound of a pop fills the air and he falls forward onto his desk, the hole in the center of his head ending all thoughts.

“Sparks love, you look like shit,” she tells him in English, shaking her head as she uses one of the bloody katars to cut the bindings.

“Jon, please make sure that Lilya is waiting for us outside, I think Sparks has a concussion.” She comments, and he knows that she must have an earwig in.

That’s all right, now that she’s here, he doesn’t have to focus anymore.


	95. Break In

Jon’s POV  
Once Aither and Sparks are in Dayesi and Lilya’s capable hands, he turns the head set off for the moment. He has a soulmate to go kiss.

He knows that when his Sansha first got home from the day of meeting with contacts, it would have been with the intention of kissing him senseless, a habit he quite enjoys. Instead, because some arse had decided to kidnap Sparks, the normal homecoming greeting was side tracked.

He’ll deal with the children and teens in a little bit, and had instructed Pyotr to burn the place down, make it look as much like an arson accident if possible. There is no reason to let anyone know what really happened in there. Not at this point and they don’t need the teenagers deciding to swear revenge.

Stretching, he heads towards their bedroom to check in there first since it’s the middle of the night. When his soulmate isn’t there, he heads down to the basement to check the lab. Sure enough, he finds his Sansha fiddling with something that can easily explode. Leaning against the wall, he enjoys watching the delicate way the spy pieces the toy together.

“Sparks recovered?” Alec eventually asks, eyes never leaving the bomb.

“Yep,” he replies, popping the ‘p’ sound. “I told Pyotr to make it look like an accident or like one of them did it before committing suicide.”

“Good call.” His Sansha murmurs. “Were there children?”

“Nope,” again he pops the ‘p’. “They were all taken to a safe houses an hour before Aither arrived. I have the address, along with the names of everyone there.”  He pauses tilting his head to the side, “As much as Sparks might not like it, he might be the best person to take over the remaining portion of the family.”

“You’re right, he won’t like it but I am guessing you have a plan,” his soulmate agrees with a small chuckle.

“Of course! Plans are my friend, I’m a hacker after all,” he replies, amusement lacing his tone.

Finishing the bomb, Alec carefully packs it in one of the carrying cases and slips it into the spot on the shelve for that case.

Standing, his Sansha quickly crosses the space between, head dipping to kiss him.

“Hello Vansha,” his spy murmurs against his lips.

Smiling, he replies just as softly, “Hello Sansha.”

“Did you eat?” Alec queries, running his nose lightly down the side of his jaw.

“I don’t remember eating,” he answers honestly. “Sometimes I miss having Ottar around, I never missed meals with him around.”

“Then we should get something to eat,” his soulmate hums, “or I could make something?”

“I think there are leftovers from when we ate out two days ago.” He mumbles as his Sansha nibbles a path down his neck, “Or we could skip food and spend some time together?”

Laughing softly, Alec nips at his collar bone, commenting, “You’re almost too skinny, I need to make sure you eat.”

He just shrugs, smiling because he understands where the sentiment comes from. He hasn’t lost any weight recently, so he’s sure he’ll be fine, however he really wants to spend some time cuddling, if other things happen, well they happen.

“I want to cuddle,” he states quietly.

“Then go get comfy, I will find something safe to eat in bed and join you.” Alec replies, kissing him again before turning towards the stairs.

He heads to their bedroom, deciding to take a quick shower while Alec puts together whatever his spy can manage to throw together for food. He’s just emerging from the hot water when he hears the bathroom door open and close. Since the footsteps are fairly light, and it’s only the slight swoosh of the door that he hears, he smiles to himself, reaching out to grab a towel. Only it’s not a towel he gets but a sharp jab to his arm.

Well fuck, he thinks as he lets off a blood curling scream, even though he’s getting dizzy, he manages to stumble out of the shower and grab one of his knives, cutting whoever it is that drugged him and smirking in success at the sound of them hitting the floor. He shoves their body against the door. Shaking but reaching for his glasses and his earwig. It's hard and a bit of a problem but he refuses to just give in.

He accidentally pinches his ear as he shoves it in at a bad angle, muttering, “Aither, Dayesi, there’s a problem.”

 _’Jon!’_ Aither’s voice shrills through him, almost waking him up, _’What the hell’s going on?’_

“I don’t know, what I do know is I just killed a man in my bathroom and he drugged me.” He replies, grabbing the counter to keep from falling.

 _’We’re on our way,’_ Dayesi tells him, _’Stay where you are or get to the panic room.’_

“I’m not going far,” he replies. “Turning on the house’s special security.”

He’s happy that he installed keypads in every room. With trembling fingers he opens it up and pushes in the code, smirking when he hears howls of pain.

“Aither, keep talking so I can focus on you while whatever this is goes through my system,” he requests, folding his arm to look at where he was jabbed. “The prick missed my vein or I think I’d be out now.”

 _’Is there any left in the syringe?’_ Dayesi asks urgently.

He blinks a few times, trying to see the syringe and not. “I think it might be under him, and I know I can’t move him right now,” he answers.

 _’Does Alec have his earpiece out?’_ Dayesi asks a moment later.

“Yeah,” he almost slurs, “He was playing with bombs, and you know he doesn’t wear one when doing that.”

 _’What’s your code?’_ Aither asks, and he smiles, she’s getting in the security cameras to check and see what’s going on.

“RowanStorm,” he answers in Scottish Gaelic, and finishes in Russian, “006Q10.”

 _’Wow, sentimental much?’_ his best friend asks with a snicker, _’It’s a good thing I learned the language.’_

“I told you it was useful.” He answers  with a dry chuckle.

His best friend just laughs.

 _’Describe how you’re feeling,’_ Dayesi just about orders, making him snicker.

“Dry mouth, light headed, dizzy, the room is spinning, my muscles are all shaky like I got in a really nasty fight and over did it.” He answers as he assess how he is feeling, “My field of vision is cut in half, even with my glasses on.”

The spy just hums in response, not saying anything.

“Aither, where’s Alec?” he demands, knowing his friend should be in the system by now.

 _’I’m going room by room.’_ She replies, _’There are two men by your front door, one on both sides. Both are down and their bodies are not twitching but are touching the door.’_

He grins a bit manically, his safety defense worked then.

 _’There are three by back door, two are no longer twitching and still touching it, one still twitching but managed to get no further.’_ She continues, _’Alec is in the hall, still breathing according to the movement of his chest, but still.’_

“Are there people near him?” he demands adrenaline flooding his system and forcing the drugs aside.

 _’No,’_ she replies, _’but there is a pair of wires sticking out of his back that lead towards the kitchen.’_

He snarls, forcing himself towards the door, ignoring the way the world spins.

 _’I don’t think he’s in danger Jon, the man who was holding the tazer is dead.’_ Aither informs him. _’It appears he was stabbed with a meat thermometer and bleed all over your floor.’_

“My head hurts,” he mutters, “There is no way you are going to get here quickly. It’s a 26 hour drive.”

 _’Jamie and Pierre are on their way,’_ Aither informs him seriously. _’They have also called Antony and Lida.’_

He nearly laughs because Lida alone is a danger to any threats. She uses the fact she looks like a child because of her size to her advantage. Often luring potential enemies by making them think they’re getting a kid when really they aren’t and she has a temper. A little known fact is she is actually a police officer who does undercover work. They get along merely because he helps the underdog and refuses to allow people to bully or harass folks he is helping.

“Thank you,” he tells her sincerely. “Do you know of any decent doctors in the area?”

 _’No, but Falco has landed the plane,’_ his best friend comments, _’We’ll be on it shortly, four hours later we’ll be there since we know your stubborn Sansha won’t let anyone else check him.’_

“Don’t fly Sparks if it’s not safe, you can always take him to see Valentin.” He mutters as he stares at the door. He needs to go check Alec. He’s just not sure how to do it.

Carefully, he pushes away from the sink and slides the arm sheaths on. He’s shaking less now than he was a little bit ago. After wiping his blade off on the dead man, he slips it back in its case before eyeing the dead man.

How to move him? He wonders, rubbing his neck. It’s all math. He just has to figure out which equation to use.

Carefully, taking a step, then another, and finally a third, he braces himself against the wall to use his feet and shove the body sideways. Instead of pushing it all the way out of the way, he leaves it partly there, so if he has to, he can dart back in and use it as a barricade.

Slowly making his way through the bedroom, he stops by the bedside stand to grab the extra gun kept in the underside of the drawer before continuing on.

“You told them not to touch the doors or windows until it’s unlocked right?” he asks as he carefully scans the hall.

 _’Yes,’_  Aither drawls, amusement lacing her tone. ’ _I think that Lida has also notified the police that there has been a break in and she’s responding. So maybe put that gun you are carrying somewhere they won’t find it.’_ __  
  
He laughs, answering, “After I confirm Alec is alive myself.”

She snorts at him and he can hear Dayesi trying not to laugh on her line.

“Besides, I made sure we had all the documentation needed for the glock in my hand. The things in the basement on the other hand, well I would rather keep folks out,” he replies logically.

This time neither lady holds back her laughter.

He doesn’t bother checking any of the intruders, concerned that if he did, he’d put a bullet in them, which would look bad considering he electrocuted them already with his doors. They shouldn’t have broken into his home.

Alec is actually starting to come out of whatever else they did besides electrocute his soulmate.

“Alec love,” he murmurs, hand lightly touching his Sansha’s face.

“That stings,” the older man mutters, “Are you safe?”

“Yeah, Aither checked the house via the cameras before I left the bathroom, and the body of the man in there that tried drugging me,” he answers softly, “I’m still a bit dizzy. Also, I’d like to move, we can clean the house up and turn it into a safe house, but I don’t want to live here now.”

“We can do that,” Alec agrees, forcing himself into a sitting position, “I feel like shit.”

“So do I,” he agrees. “I need to go put the gun up, but don’t have the energy to do so. Aither called Jamie and Pierre who called Lida.”

“Which name is all my paperwork here under?” his soulmate asks tiredly.

“Alec Anthony Markov,” he answers with a playful smirk, “According to the paperwork we were married last year and you took my last name.”

“Oh yeah,” his Sansha responds. “Go put that back in the bedroom and disarm the doors.”

He nods tiredly, forcing himself back to his feet and not remembering when he sat down. It’s going to be a long night.


	96. Delayed Relocating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING:** This chapter takes place between September 10th through the 11th, 2001. Some events are covered and changed compared to real life. Skip to the next chapter if reading about 9/11/2001 is triggering in any way

Jon’s POV  
Two weeks after the incident they have the house all set up so they can leave and it can be used as a safe house. Lida even suggested a few people who could do housekeeping and be trustworthy. Instead he got a hold of Larisa and Pyotr asking if there were any there who might wish to relocate to Paris in order to maintain the house. Larisa sent him a list with fifteen names and all the information on each. Pyotr sent him a list with twelve names and information on each. Of course, he looked them up too. No reason not to be extra careful.

He ends up picking a couple from Pyotr’s list named Feodora Timofeyevna Savasina and her soulmate Arman Lyakh. Both are talented and both would like to settle down rather than be mercenaries. So he offers them the safe house, and offers her a job running the shelter he had set up in Paris before things had gone wrong a few weeks prior. She accepts both. Her soulmate gets tasked with getting to know people and intel gathering without actually giving away the fact that’s what he’s doing, he agrees immediately. Feodora jokingly remarks that’s the perfect job for Arman who loves to meet and talk to new people.

Two days before they are to leave for the States, Aither and him have a contest to see who can hack the CIA faster. It’s not the first time they have had that sort of contest, and it probably won’t be the last.

During the course of the evening, as they each break further and further in, she comes across something that has her turning the coms on and sending him a link, ending the contest immediately. It’s a risk assessment and threat analyses.

“Let me get Alec,” he tells his best friend, because he doesn’t like what it says, but as its spy speak, his soulmate would be better suited to translate it since he is not sure he is reading it right.

 _’Okay,’_ she agrees.

Standing, he heads downstairs to where his Sansha is packing up the last of their things to go in the workshop.

“Alec?” he queries, keeping his voice even, or at least trying to, considering his soulmate’s expression when the spy turns around he didn’t do as good a job as he thought. “Can you come read something to make sure Aither and I are translating right?”

Nodding, his soulmate agrees easily, “Of course, I doubt you two are wrong.”

Returning to his office, he motions to the left monitor, and settles back in his seat while the sardonyx blonde reads it over.

“If you are suspecting that is a terrorist attack on New York City, then you are correct,” Alec tells him after a few minutes.

 _’That’s what I thought it said. I live in New York. I don’t like that at all.’_ Aither remarks a moment later.

“Well then,” he reasons, “we find out when and how and stop it.”

 _’Yes,’_ she hisses in agreement.

The rest of the evening is spent hacking anything terrorist related, he even calls on his hackers still living in Moscow to help. The hours flow together as they gather as much information as possible. Aither is the one who decides to run a search of phone taps and verbal communication in case there is anything in them, and that is how they discover where three of the planes are taking off from, although not the exact numbers. He’s the one who runs the probabilities to get which planes it is.

Once they have that information, they go to the next step, planning how to stop it, which has him pulling Alec and Dayesi into the conversation. While Aither pulls Falco into the conversation. They spend even more time figuring out a plan of attack and putting it in order. On Aither’s side it’s because it’s her home. On his side, he hates the idea of innocent people being attacked for no good reason, and that is pretty much what this accounts to.

Aither is going to be on the flight that is supposed to hit the North Tower. Falco is going to be on the South Tower flight. Four of Aither’s are going to be the flight for the Pentagon. He determines that there will probably be an attack on the capital based on the numbers, and which flight they will be on. Four of Alec’s people are going to be on that flight to DC, the one they are least sure about.

He’ll run point from his office, filling them in on all the information and relaying success or not. He’s edgy about his best friend putting herself in such a dangerous position, but no more so than some of the missions he has run for Alec or Dayesi in the last year.

They were actually supposed to move the day before, but decided to hold off for forty-eight hours while they deal with this mess.

Alec keeps bringing him fresh tea as he keeps his eyes on the screen, hands flying over the keyboard except when he reaches for something to drink. His focus is on finding who, where, and why this is happening. He doesn’t really like terrorists, they annoy the hell out of him, and he doesn’t dwell on the fact that for the four years before he met Alec, his soulmate was technically considered a terrorist, even if his Sansha was definitely set up.

When he has all the information he can gather, he starts putting it into a useable format. They’ll help take care of this issue if only to deal with the threat before it can get much worse. He’s never understood using religion as a weapon but understands it’s a very common tactic throughout history.

He sleeps for three hours prior to the beginning of the missions. It’s the most people he has juggled in the field to date. That’s not going to stop him however, this needs to be done and apparently it needs to be done now. Since the FBI and CIA apparently can’t communicate with each other and do their bloody jobs of protecting their country, they’ll help do it because it is Aither’s home.

“Check in,” he directs to make sure everyone is right on schedule. There is a ten to twenty minute window between when each flight is supposed to leave, starting with Aither’s.

Everyone checks in, with Aither being the last even though hers is the first flight.

 _’I didn’t want to look like was talking to no one when I had a flight attendant by me,’_ his best friend murmurs. _’The person next to me is one of mine. I figured backup may be needed.’_

He snorts, knowing that she won’t use that back up unless she has no other choice. Too many years as a solo street fighter taught her otherwise.

 _’I have two of them in line of sight, as soon as the plane is in the air I am going to walk by and make sure I stumble to touch their skin.’_ his fellow hacker remarks, _’I had one of the chemists whip me up some fun contact based poisons. They’re on my leather gloves that I didn’t slip on until we were on the plane.’_

He just laughs softly. Leave it to his best friend to even the odds before the game even begins.

Falco chimes in with, _’We’re boarding and I can already see one of mine, not sure on the others yet. My memory doesn’t work like you hackers.’_ There is a brief pause, _’Actually think I can keep him from getting on, I’ve got my gloves on right now. He’s not wearing any gloves.’_

“If you can get him without giving yourself away do it,” he orders, attention flipping between camera systems. Pulling up the airport that Falco is in, he scans the crowd by the on ramp, “The two closest to the metal detectors, and the one going on the plane right now.”

 _’Got them,’_ the older man mutters, _’I can’t stop the one getting on the plane right now but I can get the other two.’_

He watches as the ex-soldier walks over to the pair, lightly tapping the ones arm to draw his attention, biting back a laugh when Falco grabs the man’s hand between his and starts asking him if he knows Jesus Christ as Savior. He wants to laugh even harder when the man jerks his hand away, but keeps it in. There is no reason to laugh until it works. Determined, Falco grabs the other man’s hand, shaking it firmly as he shakes he starts the spiel over again. The second is a lot politer, replying with questions about Allah instead.

After a moment, the ex-soldier wanders away while taking the gloves off, turning them inside out, and dropping them in a trash can before continuing on.

He snickers when he sees the fact Falco had a second set of glove on underneath, thus insuring there are no prints.

 _’We’re in the air,’_ Aither remarks, drawing his attention back to her. She’s beyond his range to see, but he is able to hear what’s going on around her cause she has her phone sitting on her lap and on, allowing him to hear. _’I have three in front of me and I bet there is at least one behind me.’_

“What’s your plan besides the poison?” he asks.

 _’Hope they’re carrying some sort of knife so I can slit their throats,’_ she answers after a moment. _’Otherwise, a good old fashion ass whooping.’_

’You realize these are suicidal men?’ Falco asks worriedly.

 _’Yes, and I am going to help them on that goal,’_ she replies with a snicker. _’They’re never going to see it coming cause I’m a five foot tall woman.’_

“She has a point,” he agrees, switching to check the airports to see if he can spot anymore. “Their kind never expects a woman to be able to deal the type of damage my fellow hacker can deal.” The first one Falco touched is violently sick in a corner, trying to hide the fact he’s vomiting. It’s not working according to the two security guards approaching.

 _’Time for my walk around,’_ she murmurs. He listens as she asks the flight attendant if she can walk up and down the aisle for a moment, she has a Charlie horse and needs to walk it off. He tries not to laugh at how young and vulnerable Aither is making herself sound.

They might be young, but vulnerable is not something many can say about them. They’ve got far too much fire in their systems.

 _’Oh, I’m so sorry!’_ she exclaims, _’It’s my leg, I sometimes have problems with it.’_

He hears the man mutter in response, waving off the platitudes.

A few moments later she does it again, this time to another man. The second man is not as polite in his response. Not that she actually cares. She’s just making this look good before returning to her seat.

 _‘I’m boarding. The three I touched are nowhere to be seen.’_ Falco notifies them.

“That’s because security took the one away and the other two are in the bathroom still trying to hold their stomachs down if I have to go by the one’s actions.” Alec responds, watching two of his screens while he looks at two other screens.

 _’Lovely thing, all the assholes this touches will kill them in less than twenty four hours by rapidly dehydrating them.’_ Aither remarks viciously, _’Those three who aren’t on the plane are still getting their death. Just not the way they expected.’_

Beside him, his soulmate starts laughing softly. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

 _’Of course!’_ his best friend  replies, _’Because I’m short, sassy, and deadly, your favorite type when not with Jon.’_

His Sansha just shrugs, as if saying: she’s not wrong.

 _’Should I wait until the remaining two or three start some shit, or should I deal with them now?’_ his best friend asks.

“Deal with as many as you can without it being noticeable now,” he responds after thinking about it, “then you will have less to deal with.”

 _’I’m sure someone, somewhere is going to want to know why we didn’t just report this and I am totally not answering that question,’_ she remarks with a snicker. _’I think I can get the one in the back row on my way to the bathroom to dispose of my gloves.’_

He understands why she is planning on getting rid of the gloves, no reason for them to be able to trace them back to her when the bodies turn up poisoned.

 _’We’re boarding,’_ Nate, one of Aither’s who is taking care of the third flight remarks. _’I don’t have any poison but I stabbed one in the femoral artery with a razor when I accidently bumped into him. He hasn’t gone down yet but he will here shortly.’_

 _’I clocked one with a tranquilizer, it’ll probably take effect once we’re on the plane,’_ Donjae, another one of Aither’s, comments, _’Although, considering the dose he probably won’t be getting back up.’_

 _’It’s time,’_ Aither remarks, cutting in, _’This might get a bit dicy. There is one in first class I missed on my walk through.’_

“I have complete faith you’ll find a way to quickly kill them all.” He replies seriously, knowing his friend and the type of temper she has.

He listens in furious silence as one of them demands control of the plane, bragging about having a bomb and using it as a threat. His best friend snorts when the so called bomb is revealed. There is a brief scuffle, lots of screaming, some from terrified, some from pain. He can hear the way the three she touched are reacting to the poison, their bodies rebelling and making it easier for them to be taken out. He hears his best friend’s hiss of pain right before he hears the sound of someone being thrown into something metal and a low snarl of rage. It’s  not much longer and he hears the pilot come on, announcing that everything is fine and they are making an emergency landing.   
  
_’Got them all,’_ Aither tells them. _’They’re all dead. One of them had a little knife. It did the job after I broke his arm to get it. The bastard nicked my arm. I forgot for a moment I wasn’t wearing the katars.’_

“One down, three to go,” he murmurs, “Falco report.“

 _’We’re in the air and I can see both of mine.’_ the ex-soldier tells him. _’Now it’s just a matter of getting to them before they can get to whatever plan they have going on.’_

Less than five minutes later all hell breaks out on the second flight. Since Falco didn’t have his phone speaker on for them to listen in, he only catches part of what happens but it is definitely a scuffle. When Falco comes back online, he’s almost breathless, ’ _Got them. Never thought I’d use the sort of tactics Aither’s fond of but they did the trick.’_

 _’You have morals, I don’t.’_ she reasons and he is sure his best friend is smirking.

 _’They’re emergency landing the plane. As soon as it’s down I’m slipping away.’_ The ex-soldier informs them. _’I don’t want to deal with the politics or police.’_

 _’I thought that went without saying?’_ His best friend queries almost playfully.

 _’Our team has four and I think there is four of them, though I can’t confirm the two because they are being very careful not to look at the other two.’_ Nate reports after a few moments. _’However their avoidance of looking at their partners is just as telling.’_

 _’This asshole has tear gas,’_ Tichina, the third member of the third team, snarls quietly. _’How unlucky for them I am a light finger with two of their gas masks.’_

 _’We’re boarding,’_ Andrea, one of Alec’s and a member of the fourth and final team, tells them. _’I can see two of them right now but I think there are three.’_

“I haven’t been able to see them with the cameras, they’re sticking to blind spots,” he replies as he looks at the cameras to her airport again.

 _’Can I deal with as much of the threat as possible before they show themselves?’_ Andrea queries and he wonders what she is planning on.

 _’If you think you can do it without getting kicked off the plane,’_ Aither replies before he has a chance to.

He can just about hear the smirk in her voice as Andrea states, _’A few crazies about to be outed.’_

A moment later there is a thud followed by dramatic crying tearful accusations, and rapid, barely understandable speech. He might not be able to hear exactly what is being said but he gets the general gist of it and has to keep from laughing because she is crying wolf on the man, claiming he tried to grab her breasts while his partner grabbed her arse. Her plan is successful as the two get belligerent and are escorted off of the plane, while she thanks the staff profusely.

 _’Two down,’_ Andrea announces as she takes her seat. _’The one looked at a man that wasn’t in the possible list, it appeared they had an unspoken conversation. I suspect he is another one.’_

“Very good,” Alec replies, “Knowing the enemy is half of the fight.”

 _’The other half is surprising them and luck,’_ Aither remarks, and he can nearly hear the smirk. _’We’re landing, I’ll be back on shortly.’_

“Stay safe,” he tells his best friend.

There are two flights down and two to go. His nerves get a bit tense because things don’t generally go super smooth so he is expecting that something else is going to go wrong.

He’s proven right when the third plane goes into chaos and the fourth member of the third team, Alan Richards, is killed by his terrorist while trying to prevent the attack. The terrorist doesn’t make it very long however because Tichina slams something into the back of his neck before going after the next. The third plane ends up crashing into the Pentagon parking lot. The hijackers are dead, but so are several of the passengers. He’s surprised only Alan dies from their team.

Three down, one to go, here’s to hoping the last goes smoothly and that the calculations are wrong. Considering Andrea has already spotted some of them, he’s sure it is definitely going to happen. Lindsey stages an argument with the man on the other side of her, drawing all of the staff’s attention while her partner Caleb slips into first class to deal with the problem there.

That plane also crashes and he is amazed at the fact there aren’t more causalities.

The news coverage goes ballistic, but he doesn’t pay attention to that. Instead he pays attention to the terrorists and what they are plotting because they will be the ones that have to be dealt with. Yawning, because he’s tired after not sleeping much the last few days, he decides to just set his private ghost server to recording everything. He and Aither can process it after they get some rest. It’s very unlikely they are going to try again within the next few hours without doing extensive research on what went wrong.

He smirks, knowing that it’s a question that may never be answered since most the teams are either vanishing before the police get there or blending themselves in to gather information but acting like they don’t know what happened. He’s just very happy they were successful with a minimum loss of life. Today could have gone a lot worse.


	97. Relocating and Relationships

Jon's POV  
Two days after the mess with the planes they use a private plane owned by one of Alec's associates to relocate to the States. For the time being they are at Aither's home, but they have already discussed finding a place of their own to live in. He chuckles when he realizes that her home is actually the top two floors of a flat complex. Wait, they're in the States, that makes it an apartment complex. Sparks is the one who picks the four of them up with a surprisingly bland vehicle.

The ride is nearly quiet, the city seems almost calm as they pass from the airport to Aither’s home. He enjoys all the diversity he can see, it reminds him of London, only far more compact and a lot more skyscrapers.

When they reach their destination, Sparks parks in the basement of an apartment building in a parking garage. Aither is standing by the lift, legs crossed as she leans against the wall, a playful smile on her lips.

“Welcome to New York,” she greets them.

Alec and Dayesi snort, he’s sure both have been here before while he and Lilya have not.

"I own this building and both buildings on either side," Aither tells them as they head towards the lift. "I'm working on getting the one across the road. The outsides aren't much to look at but I am focused on the inside. Most the apartments have been redone, fixing the floors, walls, and everything in between. I put members of my 'gang' to work on it, with actual contractors showing them how."

"I did something similar with my buildings in Russia," he replies with a smirk, knowing she is aware of that fact.

"I got the idea from you," she retorts with a chuckle.

The ride up is silent, he watches the way Dayesi, Lilya and Aither keep glancing at each other with none of them actually saying anything but he has a feeling he’s not going to see the trio for a while.

"This floor is for you two to use as long as you want." Aither remarks as they stop at the second from top floor.

He blinks at her, tilting his head, and studying her. "Thanks," he eventually comments.

She laughs softly, "Houses are impractical here, at least to me."

"I'll keep that in mind," he hums.

"Windows like Jon's?" Alec queries, glancing at the stained glass windows.

He shares a knowing look with his best friend, a smirk of understanding passing between them.

"Yeah, as are the doors," she answers with a nod. "Between us we've designed quite a system for safety."

His soulmate arches one sardonyx brow at that statement.

"We discuss in detail all the little things we want to do to protect our homes. You two haven't settled yet," she explains calmly as she shows us around the flat. "I'm putting the ideas to practice to see how well they work. We'll keep discussing them until we know exactly what works best. Of course," her tone gets mischievous, “having a few spies in the house who can test them will make it even better.”

Alec and Dayesi both snicker, sharing their own mischievous glance.

“I didn’t know if you ladies wanted your own space or would mind sharing with me so I actually have one of the apartments below open, I also have the second room in my apartment open as well,” Aither tells Dayesi and Lilya with an almost hopeful smile.

“What about Sparks?” Lilya queries curiously, tilting her head and watching the small hacker.

“He’s been in his apartment in that,” his best friend’s hand waves toward the building on the left, “building for nearly a year, at least when he is stateside.”

They apparently need to discuss what sort of relationship their triad is going to have because he’s known that since they split right before that birthday dinner for Alec last year. More than that, since the death of most of his family in a ‘house fire’ Sparks has been taking control of his birth family’s property and the younger members of it, working with Larisa, Dmitri, and Khorya  to make sure they can be productive members of society. It means the tall fighter hasn’t actually been home a lot lately. Still, that’s for them to work out. He’s not going to get in the middle of it if he can altogether avoid that.

“I like the layout,” he comments as he takes in the mostly open floor plan designed like a loft with their bedroom and bathroom being the only thing not in the open.

“There’s a computer room through your bedroom,” Aither tells him, “Along with a shift away wall that allows you to go from this apartment to mine or the building next door into Sparks’.”

“Really?” he asks curiously, eyes carefully scanning the wall until he finds what he is looking for. It’s well hidden by the paneling, simply appearing to be a spot where two pieces come together.

“How do you work it?” he probes as his fingers run over the wall, finding the split but not yet finding the trigger.

Smirking, his best friend directs him to the computer desk, and shows him the hidden trigger with the light switch on the wall behind it.

“What do you think?” he asks Alec, eyes on his soulmate.

Nodding slowly, the spy smiles, just the corners of his lips tipping upwards but he understands the expression behind it.

He nods to his best friend, accepting the offer, probably for the duration of their stay here.

Their things will be along in a few weeks, everything except their cat that is currently living with Pyotr and his triad. They didn’t want to move Rory all over the place until they actually settled. The plan is to stay here for six months to a year. They are almost five months early coming here compared to their original plan, but he just didn’t want to stay in Paris after their house was broken into, particularly since he still hasn’t figured out how. The most likely answer is one of the minions is a traitor. If that’s the case, when he figures out who it is, he’s going to take dark pleasure in handing them over to Alec and Dayesi for punishment.

“Let’s go look at this room,” Lilya suggests, lightly nudging her longtime girlfriend, Dayesi.

A thoughtful gleam flashes through the female spy’s eyes before nodding slowly in agreement.

“We can figure out dinner in a couple hours,” he remarks suggestively, “I think a code may need reworked.”

Aither nods once sharply, understanding exactly what he means even as the other three give him curious glances. “I forgot that’s sometimes necessary.”

His lips just quirk in an understanding smile, “Very.”

“Right, well ladies, ready to see the apartment and the bedrooms to pick from?” his best friend asks brightly, already working through what they need to discuss with the same determination as attacking a firewall she wants to break.

“They’re going to be a while,” Alec comments almost sarcastically as the three walk away.

“Yes, but there is nothing wrong with that, I think it’s been a long time coming.” He replies seriously, “What do you think? Stay here or find somewhere of our own?”

Looking around, his spy answers, “We’ll have to see how good the defenses are first.”

He knows that’s in reference to their place in Paris.

“Good plan,” he agrees with a smile, stepping into the older man’s space and tipping his head sideways slightly.

“Very good plan,” Alec hums, no longer speaking of the house arrangements according to the dark blue in his soulmate’s eyes.

Oo-O-oO

Aither’s POV  
She understood exactly what Jon was saying the moment he commented on the code needing reworked. Thankfully the other three don’t seem to understand the meaning behind that, because that would be embarrassing, particularly since she prides herself on being better at reading people. Some reason her ladies think she’s still with Sparks, which is grossly inaccurate since they ended the physical aspects of their relationship over a year ago. Did her two potentials think they’re just a distraction when not home? She needs to fix that misconception immediately.

She shows them their possible apartment first, so they know where it is, before taking them upstairs to her apartment. Technically it might be considered a loft because of the mostly open floor design used on it the bedrooms, bathroom and computer room is behind the elevator. The rest of the apartment is one big space, including a small dining area, kitchen, and sitting area with several divans and armchairs.

“My bedroom is that door,” she motions to the one closest to the stained glass windows along the front wall. “The bathroom is behind the elevator, doors there and there,” she motions to both on either side of the elevator. “Other bedroom is there,” she motions to the last door.

“Is your computer room like Jon’s?” Lidiya asks as her eyes sweep around the apartment.

To an outsider it would seem more like a safe house even though she knows exactly where every sentimental item is. Most are just out of direct sight and in her bedroom. She doesn’t like people in her space or being able to see the things that are private. In less than ten minutes she can strip this place down to take all the things that are most important to her. If she has to she can do it in less. She did that once before, because a rival gang decided to attack her home. Afterwards, once she bought this building since she had only been renting the other, she paid them back faster and crueler than they ever imagined.

She might not like cops or FBI or most spies, but she’s damned good at information gathering and ruining someone's day when they piss her off, if they survive her revenge that is.

Smiling a bit tightly as the two look around, she slips into her room, dropping one of her throwing knives into her hand and hurling it at the corkboard in the wall for just that reason. A moment later the second one flashes through the air just as fast and just as on target.

Taking a deep breath she fetches both of them before turning to face the spy standing in her doorway. She was aware of Dayesi’s presence even before the second knife went flying.

“You know I don’t care one way or another,” the spy states, almost a question but not quite according to tone.

Absently she flips the blade in her hand and sends it sailing at the other corkboard.

“Lilya would understand,” the spy continues watching the way she plays with the blade before tossing it as well.

“Something has definitely been lost in translation,” she replies, fetching the blades by going over her bed with a quick flip. She might punch the spy if they get too close right now. She’s fucking furious. She’s just not sure if it’s at them or herself. The person she needs to discuss this with the most is the reason for the confusion, which just makes it so much more infuriating.

“You’re angry,” Lidiya murmurs from the door, almost surprised by the revelation.

“Furious might be a better word,” she nearly snaps, just barely holding her temper down. One of the reasons she gets along with Sparks so well is the temper. They both have flashpoint tempers. She’s just better at hiding hers normally.

They’re in her room, her personal space where her more sentimental side is shown. If they look around they’ll see the small Christmas presents from last year and the one picture Jon took of them, they’ll see the two pictures with her family before her dad died of a broken heart following her mom dying in a car accident. She doesn’t know what happened to the third member of her parents triad, one moment she was there, the next she wasn’t. There is the comforter Jon sent her the first year they were friends, and the pillow made by a cousin who had drowned in a boating accident, her room has so many private little things, yet they probably realize none of that.

“Did you know, I learned morse code before I learned to speak,” she comments as she toys with the knife she is holding, considering putting it in the corkboard. “I was quiet until I was nearly four, dad thought morse code would be handy, he knew it, so he taught me. They died when I was still a kid, mom of a car accident, dad of a broken heart.” Her smile turns sad, “I was always happy I was unmarked after watching dad die like that.”

Lidiya steps forward, hand coming up like she’s planning on offering comfort and she steps backward.

“I gotta go,” she tells them, and before they have a chance to reply, she is gone.

This is her home. She knows all of the exits and all the best escape routes. She also knows exactly where she can go to think. Right now she needs to do that, and she can’t do that if she’s being confronted by the topic.

Oo-O-oO

Lidiya’s POV  
“Why do I feel like we are missing a piece of the puzzle?” she asks forlornly.

“I think we are. I’m just not sure which piece.” Dayesi murmurs thoughtfully, staring after where the youngest one in their tentative triad vanished.

“Dayushka, how do we find out what the missing piece is if she isn’t here to ask?” she wonders worriedly.

Her long time friend and lover takes her hand, kissing her knuckles, “We ask the person who knows her best.”

She smiles almost shyly as she nods, “That’s either Jon or Sparks, but where is Sparks and do we dare bother Jon and Alec?”

“Alec will understand,” her love answers.

The two of them turn to leave the room but her Dayushka stops to look at something, drawing her attention to it. It’s a photo collage, tucked away out of sight of the door, had they not stepped further in, they never would have seen it. Most of the pictures are of them, her and Dayesi, but there is also a small section of Jon and Alec, and another section of Sparks with a dark-auburn haired person she’s never seen before.

“That’s Quin,” Jon states from the door, startling her because she hadn’t heard him approach.

“Quin?”she repeats, trying to think if she knows Quin or not.

“Currently handling something that requires deep cover, I never asked which government Quin officially works for, I just know that Quin reports back to her along with the handlers.” The hacker tells them with a small smile. He might not have asked, but she has a feeling he knows the answer anyways. “I think besides Sparks we’re the only people who have been in here, and as I know how territorial I get, I bet she’s the same way.”

“We were just coming to speak with you,” she comments as they leave the room, the hacker closing the door firmly behind them.

He just arches a dark eyebrow in question.

“We’re pretty sure we’re missing a piece of the puzzle known as Aither.” She tells him, hesitantly asking, “Do you know what that piece is?”

“Yep,” he replies popping the ‘p’ sound.

“Can you tell us?” she queries hopefully, eyes wide as she watches him.

He gives a small shake of his head, “You have all the facts if you put them in order. I’ll make a deal with you: I’ll answer yes or no questions only, you have ten questions to figure it out, for every question past ten you have to pay a forfeit.”

Her Dayushka’s eyes narrow on the hacker, that look she is very familiar with. “Ten a piece or together?”

“Together,” he answers nearly instantly, lips quirking in a playful smile, “That doesn’t count.”

“Deal,” her spy agrees.

Her eyes widen and she hopes that Dayesi has an idea. She doesn’t relish the idea of owing Jon a favor. He has a tendency to hoard those and only use them in the worst situations.

“It has to do with Sparks?” her lover asks, holding a single finger up to count.

“Yes,” Jon agrees smoothly, face a blank mask.

“It has to do with the fact we understand she is in a relationship with him?” Dayesi holds a second finger up.

“Yes,” this time he sounds almost bored, which is odd for Jon who is normally very vibrant, it reminds her of that first meeting years before.

“We’re wrong about her relationship type with Sparks?” she suddenly realizes, eyes widening.

“Yes,” he hums, still looking bored, so that’s not all of it.

Biting her lip, she glances at her Dashenka, trying to figure out what they were wrong about. Her lover holds up a third finger.

“Their relationship is sexual but not romantic?” she asks hesitantly, glancing between the spy and hacker.

“No,” he responds smoothly.

So the relationship is not sexual or not romantic. Which one’s right?

Holding five fingers up, her lover amends it confidently, “Their relationship is romantic but not sexual?”

“No,” the bored tone is back.

Humming, she looks around the apartment, trying to get an idea what the relationship is like. Honestly, she can’t tell anything from this room. It makes her wonder if her Dashenka got anything from this room or the bedroom. The bedroom! What did she see in there? Pictures of her and Dayesi, seem to be the most common, small items that she probably collected but are easily packed, all personal touches kept from the casual viewer. Everything about Aither’s life can be easily packed up and moved within minutes notice. Yet the most personal items are gifts.

“I know they used to have sex,” Dayesi muses, still holding only one hand up. “I do not know if their relationship was romantic. She seems pretty aromantic normally.”

“Their relationship is platonic?” she hazards as she listens to her lover murmur.

“Yes,” Jon agrees, watching her with narrow eyes.

That startles her. She thought that Aither must be having sex with Sparks in the times they are apart since she knows that the younger woman finds sex enjoyable. She understands that, for a while Dayesi was shared between her and Alec, there is no reason she would have not understood Aither being shared between them and Sparks. Particularly since she knows they have been together a long time.

So they have four questions left but she feels like they are hundreds of questions away from an answer.

“Their relationship is platonic, we were mistaken about their relationship, then it becomes a matter of our relationship.” She muses, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth again. “It has to do with us as a,” she hesitates over the word, hating feeling so insecure and wondering if this is what Aither was feeling when she left, “triad?”

“Yes,” he agrees blandly, which lets her know they are getting closer to the right answer. “Three questions left.”

She nods, glancing at her Danushka questioningly, wondering if her spy figured out what she was working through.

“We offended her with the comments and questions regarding Sparks?” Her lover asks, watching Jon carefully.

His lips twitch upwards, as does only one brow, as if asking: really? “Yes.”

Eyes widening she realizes something else, “We hurt her, that’s why she left.”

“Yes,” he agrees with a sharp nod, the most reaction he has shown yet, and she realizes he’s holding back on purpose.

“She’ll be down in a little bit,” he tells them with a snicker, “Alec and I will figure out our own dinner.” He walks towards the door stopping to turn back towards them, “If you hurt her, I’ll make your life hell.”

He leaves without giving them a chance to respond, but she’s pretty sure that was intentional.

“Do you think she was on the roof?” she asks curiously.

“No,” Dayesi responds with a small shake of her head, “At least not the roof of this building.”

“How do we apologize for the assumption?” she wonders, worrying her lip again.

Her lover pulls her into a hug even though she’s the bigger one of the pair, murmur comfortingly, “Directly, the we go out to dinner and have a nice discussion outlining what we want from this relationship, because I think she’s right when Aither said something got lost in translation.”

She hugs her Dayushka back tightly, settling her chin on top the other woman’s head.

They can definitely do that.

Oo-O-oO

Alec’s POV  
It’s not even been a day and there are already problems. That figures. Especially since they were originally going to come here two days ago but plans got changed because of terrorists. He’s frustrated when Jon goes still, eyes looking off in the distance as he listens to something on the earwigs. He knows that all of them can be turned on remotely, even if it’s not something that Jon and Aither do often.

“I need to go talk to your two, neither have earwigs in, so Aither can’t turn them on to determine whether to come back or not.” His Vansha remarks with a shrug. “Afterwards want to go explore for a bit?”

He smiles at his hacker, leaning in to slowly touch their lips together in a soft kiss.

“This trip is going to be more eventful than not, isn’t it?” he sighs after they stop kissing.

“Probably,” his Rowan agrees, “Is life ever not eventful?” Jon queries with a chuckle.

“Good point,” he agrees. “Go figure them out so we can go eat.”

“Alright Sansha,” the hacker agrees with another soft kiss following.

He just smiles fondly as the younger man walks off, heading towards the hidden stairwell to avoid the lift.


	98. Figured Out

Aither’s POV  
She probably shouldn’t have bolted but right then she was on the verge of exploding. It’s been more than two years since she slept with Sparks in any sort of form besides platonic. To imply otherwise makes her wonder about everything over the last two years. She thought that they had figured things out back then. Yeah it is a mostly long distances relationship but she thought that they had an understanding. Apparently not.

Shaking her head, she perches on the neighboring building’s roof for the time being, just thinking about the fact she cares an awful lot about Dae and Lilya. Maybe she cares too much about them. It wouldn’t be the first time, probably won’t be the last. Maybe she should just adopt a cat or something, that’d probably be easier.

 _’Why are you on the roof?’_ her earpiece clicks on, Jon’s soft voice comes across it.

Startled, she pivots in place, eyes sweeping and lips twitching upwards when she sees him on the fire exit across from her.

“Why are you on the fire escape?” she replies, trying for light hearted and fairly sure it fails.

 _’We’re somewhere new, we always figure out all the exits,’_ her friend reasons, eyes still trained on her even though she knows he can’t see her clearly since he is extremely near sighted.

“Good reason,” she agrees.

 _‘Why are you on the roof next door?’_ He asks again, voice almost gentle.

“I needed to think, the best place to do so is where there is no one else.” She answers, almost hesitating before continuing, “Sparks is dealing with family stuff right now, and you’re with Alec, so I didn’t want to bother either of you.”

His head tips to the side, and a moment later he’s moving, one moment he is on the fire escape, the next he is crossing the space between them with an impressive talent for parkour, even though she knows it’s actually his years in gymnastics and acrobatics instead.

“So what did they do?” he asks when he lands on the fire escape just below the roof, and doesn’t require the earpiece to be heard.

“Nice moves,” she replies rather than answering.

“Mmmmhmmm,” he just hums, watching her with narrow eyes.

Sighing, she admits, “I think we think of this relationship differently. They’re a dyad and I’m just a casual piece on the side.”

He snorts, but doesn’t say anything, watching her like he is still waiting.

“You heard the question, and then Dase tells me that they understand, it’s alright, and I just,” she shrugs, knowing he’ll understand.

Nodding, he looks outwards, not yet commenting. Knowing him, he’s running the codes used for relationships in his head, much the same way she does. She thought she was better at reading people than this, apparently she’s wrong.

“I can talk with them, if you’d like?” he offers eventually.

“I just,” she shrugs again, “Maybe I just need to break things off? Apparently I thought something completely wrong.”

“I don’t think so,” he hums thoughtfully. “The only reason they decided to travel with us is you.”

She just blinks at him, because she didn’t know that.

“I’ll have a word with them and leave the mic on but the speaker off, at least until it’s done.” He tells her seriously, “That way you can listen in.”

He smiles, head tipping to the side, “They’ve got ten years on us, Dayesi and Alec also have honeypot training, meaning they don’t always think like us. We think in terms of connection, they think in terms of power.”

That startles a laugh out of her because she hadn’t thought of it like that. That makes a lot of sense. They are hackers. They network and build connections, whether online or in person. Dayesi and Alec are spies, even if they are not actively working as spies. She could kiss Jon about now, except she knows there is only one person he wants to be kissing.

“Go chat them up,” she responds with a smirk.

Chuckling, he nods, taking a different route down than he had taken up.

She listens as he makes it a game and challenge for the pair, snickering at her friends tone because she can hear a wealth of meaning behind it but doesn’t know if they hear the same thing. When he finally comes on to discuss the code, she agrees to come talk with them, and laughs when he says that he’ll figure out dinner with his soulmate.

“Voice control, access wingspan,” she murmurs as she heads down into the apartment again. Once she hears the chime telling her it acknowledges her, she continues, “Send Jon’s cell a list of all restaurants with five star rating.” It chimes a second time, “Voice control, access off spanned.”

It’s a newer program that they have been tweaking, it’s not quite to the point where they’d tell the others about it, but it’s definitely useful for its beta form so far. There are only a few glitches in the coding.

“We’re sorry,” Lidiya bursts out almost as soon as she’s in their line of sight.

She just arches one dark brow in their direction.

“We thought you had an arrangement like Alec and us used to have,” the doctor continues, “It made sense to me. You’re here with him as your second and I didn’t know if that meant you had to present as having a partner to avoid problems. That’s what Dayushka and Alec did for years, it doesn’t bother me, us. We wanted you to know that, in case you thought it did.” The older woman glances at the third member of their questionable triad, eyes asking for help.

“Judgment error,” Dayesi remarks, going on to explain, “that’s what it was. We forget that you and Jon play by a different set of rules than we do. Often changing the rules as needed but always keeping to the same base which seems to come to you two easily but we have a hard time deciphering.”

She shrugs, still not saying anything. She’s waiting to see when they are done first.

“Would you like to come get dinner with us, our treat, we can just have a pleasant evening or continue to discuss this?” Lidiya asks hopefully.

“Sure,” she agrees, “Let me go put some shoes on.”

She had been barefoot because they were in her territory, and that was fine, but they are leaving it, so she needs to cover her feet up. If her boots that she slips into happen to have trigger blades in the front and back, well, she’s the suspicious type.

“I know a great place down the road that’s relatively private,” she tells them when emerges from her room a minute later.

“Great!” Lidiya exclaims.

The place down the road is a small dinner owned by an older gentleman who always seems to be there when she shows up for food no matter what time of the day or night. When they get there, Frank is the first to greet them, a wide smile on his aged face.

“Aither, precious, how have you been? Who are your lovely guests? Hopefully not work!” he fires off quickly, his smile growing wider, “Your regular booth work?”

“Yes, it’ll work, Frank this is Dayesi and Lidiya,” she makes the introductions lightly, not saying what their function is here.

After Sparks and her broke up two years prior they had spent one late evening while he was cooking and she was taking some glass out of her side discussing the nature of triads and the fact she may be found one of her own.

He just hums, eyes flickering over both questioningly. “What can I start you off with to drink?”

She just smiles because he knows what she wants.

“What are you having Aither?” Lidiya asks curiously.

“House special hot cocoa.” She answers with a chuckle. It’s long been her favorite.

“That sounds good,” the doctor murmurs, then looking at Frank, tells him, “I’ll have that too, please.”

“Coffee,” Dayesi answers as they settle into their seats. “Come here a lot?” the ex-spy asks as the owner goes off.

“Fairly often, no matter what time I show up he is here and ready to make me something to eat.” She replies with a shrug, “I rarely have to tell him what I want, instead he seems to just know and I appreciate it.”

“Jon knows a few people like that too,” Lidiya comments, “I never understood how he did that.”

“Connections not power,” she mutters in response, shrugging because it’s not something she can easily explain.

A few minutes later Carry, Frank’s oldest granddaughter comes out with their mugs.

“He said he’s making the special if that’s alright?” the teenager asks with a tilt of her head, neon blue and purple hair cascading to the side.

“That’s fine,” she agrees, “Thanks Carry.”

The girl nods, and walks away with a smile.

“I met them four years ago. One of the local pimps was trying to pressure her into becoming a street walker. I sort of put my katar through his shoulder before collecting enough evidence to have him jailed for the next twenty years.” She tells her companions. “Most of the girls never finished high school, so I used Jon’s example and made a flux class they could attend based on their  schedule to finish all the stuff needed to get a GED.”

Lidiya nods seriously, “The two of you are quite a pair.”

“A very not interested in each other as anything more than siblings pair,” she agrees, taking a sip of her hot chocolate and trying not to purr. It always hits the spot.

Dayesi laughs, a low sound that sends curls of warmth through her stomach but she refuses to dwell on that right now.

Conversation falls flat, but she’s perfectly fine sitting in quiet for the time being. She’s still thinking, even if she’s not thinking as hard as she was earlier. They at least figured out what was wrong, even if it took Jon mediating. She thanks Frank when he brings their meals out, and eats just as quietly as they’ve been sitting. As the night wears on, she can tell that Dayesi is biding her time, while Lidiya is getting more and more nervous. The vindictive side of her that puts sharp objects through people finds it funny, the rest of her does not.

Afterwards, she bids the pair later as she stands, not bothering to ask for her bill because he will give her one at the end of the month. She knows he never puts everything on it, but she has a tendency of leaving big tips to cover the extra he won’t mention.

They are nearly back to the apartment building when Lidiya finally asks, “How do we fix this?”

She and Dayesi arch matching questioning eyebrows at Lidya before breaking out into laughter at their nearly identical expressions.

The air seems to clear between them and becomes considerably lighter, or so it feels like.

In the elevator she finds herself crowded into the corner by Dayesi, the spy’s sleek body pressing her backwards until she’s against the wall. “My job has made us rather un-possessive, that doesn’t mean we don’t care.” The spy nearly growls before kissing her long and hard.

She kisses back just as fiercely and it’s almost a fight for domination, but manages to slowly cool into something just a bit more possessive despite the claims otherwise.

When they stumble into her apartment a few minutes later, she’s actually happy Sparks isn’t around because he’d be asking for some popcorn while watching them and she doesn’t feel like stabbing her other best friend, even if she’d probably agree if it was just a matter of watching Dayesi and Lidiya together.

Somewhere along the way it’s Lidiya kissing her, long and slow, almost soft compared to how their spy does. They make it to her bedroom, though she’s not exactly sure how, clothes scattered across the floor along the way. That’s the last thing she thinks before her world explodes in pleasure.

The following morning she wakes up to a weird sensation on her upper back-shoulder. Rolling out of bed, she heads to her bathroom, totally comfortable with the fact she is naked as she does so. Opening the three way mirror, she steps in the middle and stares at it, startled to see the familiar Rod of Asclepius with the crossed handgun and knife, but there is a new element to it, the snake’s body is now made up of numbers, it takes her a few minutes to figure out what the code means, and she smiles softly when she does.

It makes her curious if their marks have changed to reflect the same or if their marks are the same still.

Her focus shifts to her shower as she considers taking one. Most of her muscles are pleasantly sore. She doesn’t actually get as far as getting in the shower because Dayesi comes in to distract her, and a few moments later finds her in the bedroom again for even more interesting and mindblowing times.


	99. Planning for London

Jon’s POV  
They stayed with Aither for just shy of three months. They were planning on staying longer but in December they ran into Felix Leiter, a friend of James’ who also knew Alec. The meeting had left his soulmate feeling a bit unsettled, three days after the meeting they are on their way back to Russia to spend Christmas with the family there. Aither comes with, having decided to come bug Sparks and spend the holiday with her bondmates.

It’s a nice Christmas, not nearly as awkward as some of the other ones that he has had here in Russia. The week after Christmas, Alec asks if he wants to stay in Russia or move to London while they are gathered for a last night of all of them together before Aither is returning to the States and Dayesi going on a mission, Pyotr and Viktor working out a new training schedule.

Pyotr instantly goes still, eyes widening as he firmly states, “No. You can’t. That’s one place we couldn’t protect you.”

He has to fight back a laugh at that statement.

Alec bristles, blue-green eyes narrowing on Pyot. “As we have been friends for years, I’ll take that as worry and not a remark on my skill set.”

Almost immediately, the second’s skin flushes only to drain of all color as if realizing exactly how that could have been taken.

“Is that safe?” Lidiya asks almost hesitantly, “Besides Vegas, isn’t it one of the most recorded places in the world?”

He’s the one who answers, “It is, by a system I can easily get in and out of, and alter footage as needed. Besides, even if we live in London, I think it will be more of a base so he can easily go between here and there. We’ve discussed acquiring a jet and maybe a couple of people who know how to handle it. That way he doesn’t have to worry about the public ways in and out.”

Dayesi and Aither nod in agreement, a speculative gleam entering his best friends gray eyes.

“I’ve thought of doing that too, particularly since Falco can fly them, and then I wouldn’t need to borrow a plane or jet from somewhere else.” His best friend remarks, lips twitching upwards and they share a quick look and an entire conversation during it.

“So we get a few of them. Get two a piece maybe, register ours under the Janus Mercenary Corps, yours under,” he pauses, trying to remember her front name, “Rising Star.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she hums in agreement, “Plus it will make travelling easier, if a bit expensive, of course,” her expression turns mischievous, “Well, we’re good at making money.”

“Please, I’m pretty sure between the two of us we could buy a few jets and have money left over considering neither of us actually use as much money as we make, and tend to make smart investments with the money we’re not currently using. Buy one a piece for now, and then later get a second,” he suggests, “We both have accountants making sure the money is legally tracked and there is nothing under the table about it.” He says it with a snicker, considering half their work is illegal, however all of their legal work is what they use in their day to day life, and the illegal stuff is put through a few shell companies to clean it up before they put it with the legal funds. Both of them have tax haven accounts and they also set up the same sort of accounts for Alec, Dayesi, and Lidiya.

She nods in agreement, “Perfect, now let's see which one of us can find a better deal.”

Alec bursts out laughing, shaking his head at their antics.

“Should I say I already won that one before we even begun?” he queries almost playfully.

“What’d you do?” she demands, eyes narrowing in his direction.

“Well, the owner of one of the manufacturing plants owes me a favor so,” he trails off, trying not to smirk at her equally outraged and amused expression.

“You’re an ass,” she informs him with a snicker.

“Good, you can find us pilot, I found us jets.” He tells her with a smirk.

“Are you sure you two aren’t planning on taking over the world?” Lilya queries with a fond smile.

“Nope,” they answer together, grinning evilly.

The conversation continues on without problems, and he shares a quick look with Alec, agreeing they will discuss it later.

Discussing it later ended up being nearly a week later and after a very long and pleasurable evening spent at home.

“I’ll call Reid in the morning, tell him that Mirianda will be coming to make sure everything is clean and stocked so we may move back. Probably going to need to arrange travelling papers for her since she wants to stay working with us.” He frowns, tipping his head to the side thoughtfully. “Originally we were going to stay in the States for a year, however that didn’t happen, and it requires at least a year for her to qualify. Hmmmm, bring her to work here for the next six months, then we can move to London in the summer so she qualifies for the work visa. I won’t call him in the morning. Instead I will call her, and make the arrangements necessary.”

Alec nibbles down the side of his neck, stopping to suck a mark into the crook of his neck. “Ottar is going to be annoyed to share the house with another person.”

“He’ll understand when I explain why.” He replies, tilting his head so his Sansha has easier access. “Besides, I’d like to maintain both this house and our house in London equally, that way, we can move between them as we want without any issues or what not. Since we’ll have a private jet, we can even take Rory with us between the houses when we move around.”

“Good point,” his soulmate hums against his skin. He’s fairly sure the topic is about to be closed for the time. “Would you mind if I consider this my primary physical address and leave the things I never want the British Government getting their hands on?”

He changes positioning, taking his soulmate’s face between his palms. “We don’t have to move there Alec, we can stay here if you’d like.”

His love smiles at him warmly, head turning to press a soft kiss to his palm. “That’s why I am alright moving there. You’ll never force me to.”

Smiling, he leans in to press their lips together, slowly kissing his Sansha until they are both breathless and his soulmate is getting hard again. Smiling mischievously, he pushes his lover backwards on the bed, rolling them over before taking his time trailing kisses down his lover’s well muscled form. He enjoys the plethora of sounds that escapes Alec’s lips as he traces over their soulmark, scars and freckles.

Those freckles had been quite the discovery. He had never pictured his Sansha having freckles, but sure enough, if Alec gets sun for more than an hour, those freckles come to the forefront and take months to fade. So at this moment, after spending some time in the States and Paris where there is more sunlight and clear weather than there is here, Alec has tiny little freckles scattered across tawny skin.

When he traces the root of their rowan tree down into his lover’s pubic hairs, he smirks playfully at the gasp above him. He noses his way downwards, and then upwards as he lightly runs his tongue along the vein in Alec’s cock, working his way towards the tip where his tongue flicks out to lap his lover lightly.

He glances upwards, humming in pleasure at the sight before him.

Alec’s all long lines and muscular grace. Every muscle is taut in need. Blue-green eyes are vibrant turquoise, at least the parts he can see through the blown pupils. A fine layer of sweat covers his love’s body, adding a shimmer to his soulmate’s skin, giving it a warm glow.

“Jon,” his Sansha moans, hips cantering upwards seeking friction as he sucks on his lover’s head like an obscene lollipop.

Instead of answering, he carefully works even more of his lover into his mouth.

Long fingers sink in his hair, rough calluses rubbing his scale as he takes his time teasing and pleasuring his soulmate until Alec is a writhing mess of need. He knows it’s not normal for his soulmate to let go of the training and need for control, he still loves every time it happens.

He swallows, muscles tightening for a moment around Alec’s cock, a moment later his senses are filled with the taste, scent and feeling of his lover coming hard. He keeps sucking and swallowing until his Sansha is dry, cock no longer twitching and going soft.

Kissing his way back up Alec’s body, he snuggles in after kissing his soulmate deeply, spending a little bit of time making them breathless before snuggling in beside his lover.

“Want me to return the favor?” his love asks, nuzzling the top of his head.

“Nope, I want cuddles,” he replies motioning down his body and at the fact he isn’t aroused.

Alec nods. A soft motion he feels that makes him smile. “Cuddles it is.”

He’s so very lucky to have a soulmate who understands that sometimes he’s not interested in sex, only with the cuddling and after care following.

“Sweet dreams, Sansha,” he murmurs, as he enjoys the cuddling.

“Goodnight Vansha,” his lover replies, kissing his temple before reaching to turn off the bed side light.

He’s sure it will be pleasant. He’s right where he belongs.


	100. London

Jon’s POV  
They actually end up spending an extra six months in Russia and on the official paperwork the two weeks she had off between when they left the States and she relocated to Russia was a holiday for her while they celebrated their own holidays. Ottar actually likes Mirianda, which is a really good thing considering how wrong it could have went.

The day they return to his home is surprisingly clear, not cloudy or rainy.

His home, the home originally bought by Rory and Amelia Williams is cleaned and stocked, ready for them to move in. He’ll be making some changes in the coming weeks but for tonight they are just going to relax together.

“How long has your family owned this house?” his Sansha asks as he shows the ex-spy around.

“It was Grandfather Arnold’s home originally,” he answers after considering it for a moment. “It was sold to the bank when mum was a child. She bought it as an adult. I assumed the mortgage when they vanished, though all the documents went through Reid.”

“Your solicitor has been very handy,” his soulmate murmurs thoughtfully.

He nods in agreement, stopping when they get to his room. “Officially that,” he waves to the next room over, “Is the master suite, but until I do some remodeling of it, I won’t use it because it was theirs.”

His soulmate hugs him, pulling him close and lightly kissing the top of his head.

"Reid and his father have worked for dad's family for the last eighty years," he comments softly, "I was almost shocked when he told me dad left everything in my name in case something happened, particularly since Aunt Missy was so sure that it was going to be left for her."

His Sansha nods.

"Our family housekeeper worked here up until last fall. She retired at that point, Reid asked if I wanted someone else hired and I told him to hold off for now." He continues with a shrug. "Our room is this one," he motions to the one next to the master suite. His lips quirk up in a mischievous smile as he does so.

"Your childhood room?" Alec queries as his soulmate let's go of his hand and lets him lead them to their new bedroom.

"Yeah," he agrees with a snicker.

Opening the door, he chuckles at his Sansha's expression as the older man glances around the room. As a teen he preferred cool colors, and his room reflects it. The bedding set is dark blues and greens, fluffy pillows and soft comforters. The walls are dark woods, and the carpet is plush dark browns. His desk is still set up in the corner, the drawers beside it full of tool and useful bits and pieces, the laptop port hasn't been moved, though it's a bit dustier than he remembers.

"Not what I expected," his Sansha murmurs.

He snickers, commenting, "Wait until you see the basement."

"Oh?" Alec queries curiously.

"Yep," he hums, popping his 'p' sound.

“Ever bring dates up here?” his soulmate asks, tone amused as the older man paces around the room, getting a feel for it.

“Nope,” he replies, again popping the ‘p’ sound, “Only my science study partner. She thought it was hilarious how good I am with math and sciences that related to tinkering or creating but how horrid I am with the rest of the sciences.” His smile turns wistful, “Besides Aither she’s the only person my own age that liked me because I was me and not because I helped out.”

“Was, did something happen to her?” Alec asks, head tipping as the taller man stops and looks over at him.

“She died of leukemia three months before my folks vanished. I attended her funeral with my family.” He replies with a fond smile, he sobers up when he comments, “She met one of her soulmates while in hospice. For a few months following her death, I kept in touch with the man, then he met their other soulmate. After the second one’s death, I don’t know what from, he swallowed some pills and fell asleep in a bath on purpose.”

His Sansha nods slowly, as if considering that option. “I’d probably burn the world down, that’s what I wanted to do when I thought James was dead.”

Crossing the room, he wraps his arms around his soulmate, hugging the sardonyx blonde.

“Come on, I’ll show you the basement, I think you’ll enjoy that,” he suggests, not touching on the fact he knows Alec would lash out if something happened, and not wanting to discuss the fact that’s what led to the situation that brought them together. It’s something they’ve discussed in the past, normally only in small pieces and mostly when his spy is exhausted, otherwise the agent doesn’t like to discuss it. “I’ll show you the gym too.”

Since the gym is on the ground floor, the door right next to the basement’s door, he does that first. Chuckling as his Sansha walks around and looks over all the various things set up. Alec pauses by the throwing knife boards, studying the fact they are different sizes and can be set to move.

“That explains a lot,” his soulmate comments with a chuckle before looking at some of the equipment he used for acrobatics and gymnastics.

He chuckles at the curious look at the setup, holds a finger up to say one moment, before just about sprinting towards it. At the very last second, he pushes off with his legs up and jumps, hands securely wrapping around the bar before swinging himself up on top. The next few moments are a run in muscle memory because it’s been nearly five years since the last time he did this sort of thing. Still, he completes it with no issues, landing on the far side with an almost silent thump.

“Definitely explains a lot.” Alec remarks, coming over to query, “Basement now?”

“Basement now,” he agrees, leading them to the door just outside this one. “The basement was part of the original house but was expanded on when the gym was built. It was called the play room.”

One dark amber brow arches in question and he just smiles in response.

Heading downstairs, he flips the light on, smiling fondly at the way it slowly lights up, a thing that used to drive him nuts but he understood anyways. As soon as the lights are on, he glances at his soulmate, watching the spy’s reaction to the room.

“I see why you called this the playroom,” Alec murmurs, heading off to prowl around, looking at everything though not touching the various items on the benches, tables, and in the see-through drawers. “There seems to be a little bit of everything down here.”

“I wasn’t the only tinkerer in the family. Dad and pops both had things they liked to trifle with too,” he comments, “Mum liked making things, found it relaxing.” Walking over to his dad’s favorite work table he suggests, “This one might be the one you like best for the more dangerous items you enjoy playing with.”

His hands run over the familiar surface, wood with an overlay of glass that has been treated to be difficult to break in any sort of manner his dad could think of. Most of his da’s projects were safe enough, but sometimes his dad liked to rebuild the devices he found during his work. Not all those were exactly safe.

“The floor, walls, and ceiling is reinforced, designed to take a great deal before giving in.” He comments with a fond smile. “If there was ever a bombing like the Blitz again, this basement is designed to withstand the rest of the house being blown to pieces.”

A chime pulls his attention and he frowns, wondering who the hell could be at the door. Turning, he heads towards the stairs. Mirianda has the day off so they could enjoy the time in the house on their own. She lives in a flat that she rented just a few streets over.

Opening the door, he is startled to see Mabel standing there.

“Well aren’t you going to invite me in?” she demands, tone nasally and irritating.

“I’m not planning on it,” he replies coolly. “I’d suggest you leave.”

“Why I never!” she exclaims angrily.

“That I’d believe,” he agrees with a smirk.

“Problem?” his soulmate queries, walking over to stand beside him.

“Nope, just my so-called aunt getting ready to leave,” he replies tightly.

“So-called?” she screeches.

“Yep,” he replies, ton clipped, “So-called, a real aunt wouldn’t have said ‘put him in the foster care system, but I want my portion of the family money.’ It’s time for you to leave before I decide to call the police for trespassing.”

She glares at him but turns around and heads towards her car, muttering every step of the way.

“I have three aunts,” he explains, “Mabel, Missy, and Ceit. Mabel and Missy wanted the money from our part of the family. Aunt Ceit is chronically ill and didn’t want a teenager around because of that. However, she is the only family member to keep in touch with me. I have two uncles, Lucas and Seathan, they are like Mabel and Missy.”

“I don’t think I like them,” Alec states quietly.

“I don’t talk to any of them except Aunt Ceit, who never asked for any of the money, and emails me once in a great while just to say hello.” He responds with a shrug. Mabel, Lucas, and Seathan are all Ponds, Missy is a Smith, and Aunt Ceit is a Williams.”

"She's going to cause problems," his Sansha grumbles.

"She'll try, which is why I want to wire the doors and windows before she gets back," he replies with a nod. "Da had wired most the windows for alarms, I'm just taking it a step further."

Alec's lips quirk upwards, a dark smile of understanding.

He heads to his office to call Reid, asking the solicitor to get the paperwork together for when his relatives coming calling to try and claim the house or money. There is tightly controlled anger in the older man's voice as Reid agrees and promises to get the paperwork together to ban them from bugging him as well.

He smirks as he hangs up, because Reid is not happy which is going to go badly for them.

When he leaves the office, he smiles as he spots Alec setting out his tools, having unpacked them already.

This won’t take nearly as long as the original ones because he knows what he is doing now.

“Can I help?” Alec asks softly.

He glances over, smiling warmly, “Always, my firebug.”

This is going to be fun, he thinks, if it just happens to annoy the fuck out of the relatives if they make the mistake of touching my windows or doors anywhere, that’s just a bonus.


	101. Relatives

Alec’s POV  
Two days later while Mirianda is there, that annoying woman shows back up. Their diligent housekeeper refuses to allow Jon’s ‘aunt’ and company entry, and even shuts the door in her face. Since the woman standing on their porch is being loud and annoying and no amount of threatening to call the cops work, their housekeeper comes to get him.

“Sir?” she queries as she taps lightly on the door.

Setting his pen down, because he had heard the door but ignored it, he stands up to open the door, “Is it that woman?” he asks Mirianda.

She nods, “She’s got several other people with her. One looks rather official.”

“Go call Reid,” he tells her, waiting until she is out of sight to lift his hand up and tap the earwig on. “I’m going to greet your dumb fuck aunt,” he tells his soulmate in Russian.

 _‘Damn it,’_ Jon snarls. _‘I’ll be up shortly.’_

“Come up when Reid gets here, I’m going to say hello first,” he suggests, a wolfish smirk crosses his face as he heads to the door.

He double checks that all of his weapons are out of sight before opening it up, “Oh yes, the annoying in-laws.” He remarks coolly as his eyes sweep over them.

He’s familiar with all of their faces, Jon made it a point to show him pictures of them, so he knows who each is. The one he doesn’t know he is assuming is the solicitor for this branch of the family.

“I don’t know who you are but I demand-“ Mabel begins.

“Nothing.” He cuts her off, voice sharp as a blade. “This house legally belongs to Jonathan Valentinovich Markov. As his soulmate, and thanks for that, had you done your familial duty I never would have met him, I can bar you from entering this house. That’s what I’m doing. I’d suggest you stop touching the door before I turn on the security system.”

He shuts the door in her face before she has a chance to respond, enjoying the indignant squawking just long enough to turn the alarm system on.

A loud screech makes him smirk as he returns to his office, turning on his computer that Jon set up for him, he turns the feed on, watching the idiots on the porch, primarily watching for Reid to show up.

 _’You turned the security system on,’_  there is amusement in Vansha’s voice, as if the younger man is trying not to laugh.

“Yes,” he drawls, “Should have heard her squeal when she touched the door.”

Laughing softly, Jon tells him, _’I love you.’_

Warmth floods through him. It still surprises him when Jon says that, the honesty behind his soulmate’s words, the affection. He doesn’t know how to express how much it means, often can’t get the words past his throat. Only in the dark, in the privacy of their room does he ever manage to say it back. Despite that he’s fairly sure Jon knows he cares, just because of the way his soulmate says his name, the warm look that is saved for him, and the pleasure his saying Jon’s name seems to bring.

A few minutes later, another squeal escapes the dumbshit who apparently didn’t learn the first time not to touch the door.

He does a bit more paperwork before glancing up and seeing Jon’s solicitor walking up the sidewalk.

“Reid’s here,” he tells his Vansha.

 _’Thanks Alec,_ ’ Jon replies nearly instantly. _’Turn the electricity off and go invite him in please.’_

“Of course, Vansha,” he agrees. “Just so I can turn it back on when I close the door in her face.”

His lover laughs across the line, rekindling that warmth. He’s definitely going to have to go kiss Jon a lot when this is over with. Just because he can.

Standing, he turns the screen off and heads towards the door, quickly punching in the code to turn the security off before opening the door.

His eyes sweep over the gathered group, ignoring most and making him smirk that the idiot has burns on her hand.

“Jon’s waiting for you,” he informs Reid, opening the door so the solicitor can slip past. When one of the uncles tries to push by him, he reacts almost on instinct, hand snapping out to grip the other man’s collar, lifting and tossing in a smooth motion without bothering to say anything else.

Lucas howls in rage or embarrassment, maybe even a little pain as he is sure this man is a worthless piece of garbage.

Stepping back, he shuts the door, turning back to the security panel to reset.

“You must be Alec,” Reid states, amusement in the solicitor’s voice.

“I am,” he agrees.

“Hello Reid, thank you for coming,” Jon greets the solicitor.

“Jon,” the older man nods, “You’re looking far better than the last time I saw you, I think you grew a bit too.”

Chuckling, his soulmate motions for the solicitor to follow and they head to the library.

When Jon first told him about the house, he hadn’t realized exactly how big it is, at the same time it looks sort of small from the outside because of the floor plan and where the inner walls are.

“Was I correct in what I thought the paperwork says?” Jon asks as they take a seat.

“You were,” Reid agrees with a single nod. “Even more than I anticipated actually. John covered if his family was to pull this sort of stunt what I was to do.”

“That’s good, I think, a bit sad too, why did da have to think of that in the first place.” Despite the wording, it’s not a statement.

“I brought them a copy, I will alert the police if they will not leave after I have delivered the paperwork to them.” The solicitor tells them, “I know Pierce, he’s intelligent and will advice them in the best action. Whether they are smart enough to pay attention or not is all on them.”

Jon smiles, commenting, “They’re not getting in our house, the only ones getting in or out is us and our housekeeper.”

“Keeping that tradition then?” Reid queries curiously. “Did you find someone new or did Mirianda stay with you?”

“Mirianda stayed with us, part of the reason we didn’t move until summer was we wanted it to be completely legal for her to move with us.” His Vansha mentions with a quirk of his lips. All three of them in the room know not everything Jon does is legal, so that makes it slightly amusing.

“I’ll deal with them, you just stay in the house until I am done,” Reid suggests. “Although,” there is something mischievous in the solicitor’s eyes, “knowing where the skeletons are buried is very handy.”

Snickering, he responds, “That’s easily discovered.”

Jon nods in agreement, “I get paid to do that sort of thing a lot.”

Reid just laughs.

They spend a few minutes discussing all the paperwork and finalizing everything that t they need to. Jon signs the actual contracts to the house, so now the house isn’t being held in trust for him, but is actually Jon’s. The mortgage will be changed to reflect that, and knowing his soulmate it will be paid off in twice the expected time because that’s what his hacker does. When they are done discussing that business, the conversation turns to why Jon is back, and what he is planning on doing here.

“Would you mind if I have a private word with Alec?” Reid queries politely.

Vansha tips his head thoughtfully, eyes flickering towards him to make sure he’s alright with that.

After he agrees, the hacker replies, “Sure, I think we’re done for now. I’m going to unpack a bit more. It’s been nice seeing you.” With one last nod towards the solicitor, his soulmate slips out of the room.

“I do not know your history, that’s not my job unless he wants it to be, but I will tell you I watched him grow up, I will not take it well if you are using him.” Reid informs him softly.

That’s surprising, he wasn’t expecting that sort of loyalty out of the man, it’s good though. Although, considering Jon, it shouldn’t be surprising. He’s pretty sure the hacker excels at making connections.

He doesn’t actually respond to that threat aloud, simply nods in understanding before waiting to see if the solicitor has anything else to say.

“Well, I’ll be going, you make him happy, they do not, so I will go make sure they go away.” Reid comments as the other man stands up, pushing the chair in.

“I’ll let you out,” he remarks, receiving a polite nod in response.

None of the relatives try to get in as Reid leaves, however the solicitor stops by the man he didn’t know and they discuss a paper that Reid hands over. Almost immediately, the other man clears his throat and nods.

“It’s time for us to leave, there is a complete file for me to go through before you can attempt what you wish to do.”

“What?” Mabel exclaims angrily.

“Why?” Lucas demands at nearly the same time.

“You’ve hired me to do a job, it’d be best if you let me do my job,” the second solicitor replies, he can hear that the man is trying not to be pissed.

Several minutes pass as discussion and excuses are passed between the group while the two solicitors wait patiently before suggesting they leave again.

It’s times like this he’s happy his family is all people he chooses rather than people he was born stuck with.


	102. Reconnecting and New Connections

Jon’s POV  
Since he is considering opening up a London branch of Sketched Marks, probably open up a shelter like the one he has in Moscow, and maybe even a lessons system like that too for those who’d like to further their education but can’t afford to be missing work or take the time from other responsibilities for a standard schedule. Of course, they’ll have to comply with testing to get the approval for the certificates, but that’s not a big deal in comparison.

It might be a good idea to hire someone to work with in this situation, because he wants to continue working with Alec and Aither, which doesn’t happen if he is busy doing other things all the time. He decides to ask Reid for some suggestions.

He also needs to get to know the street folks and the cab drivers. Actually, he tips his head smiling at the ceiling in his office. He should reconnect with those of his dad’s network here in London that he’s already acquainted with. Here he knows a lot of them, used to make rounds with his da even if he didn’t always pay attention to what was being said because he found something else interesting.

So, what to do? It’s time to make a plan and execute it. Call Reid make an appointment to talk to the solicitor about his ideas. Happily, he will have Reid here, who can assist with the documentation he’ll need without him having to find someone to do it for him, or using a forgery. Spend a couple of days reconnecting with the contacts in this area. While he is sure some are gone, he is also sure there are a lot still around. His skills as a hacker will let him find them to make appointments or ‘randomly’ run into them. What else?

Start the in-depth research on what happened back then. Now that he’s home, they’re in London, where their other soulmate is at, it’s time to find out what really happened. Frowning, he considers that carefully, realizing it’s not going to be as easy as he’d like. Although, his lips twitch into a smirk, he did put directives to file all Double-O files onto the ‘secure’ server that he has access to and that could be very helpful. Because if he can see who else has had odd missions or been destroyed by whoever caused this mess, it is more likely he’ll be able to present that information to Alec.

He completely understands why his Sansha is hesitant about James. He’s leery of the spy as well, though for a totally different reason. Even if they never actually connect with their third, he wants his love to have closure, and that doesn’t happen if Alec doesn’t understand why.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he dials the solicitor’s number by memory, spending a few minutes setting up an appointment and outlining what he’d like to cover. Reid is very polite, which isn’t unusual but also amusing.

Heading to the office that Alec claimed, because his is more of a computer based office, and Alec’s is more of a traditional office, he taps on the door lightly before slipping in.

“I’m going for a walk,” he tells his lover with a smile.

“A walk, or a Walk?” he can hear the capitalization on the second version of walk, the stress to the word that means it’s not just him strolling for pleasure.

“The sort I used to do to meet little birdies,” he replies with a chuckle.

“I’m going to stay here and finish this up, who knew running a mercenary company would have so much more paperwork than a crime syndicate?” his soulmate jokes, a smile curving the sardonyx blonde’s lips.

He crosses the room to stand beside his Sansha, smiling warmly at the spy. “I think you did, you just like grumbling because you’re the one stuck doing it,” he states softly, one hand coming to rest on Alec’s shoulder.

Turning towards him, the older man tips his head and smiles invitingly.

“A kiss before I go?” he requests softly.

“Always,” Alec tells him, standing and cupping his jaw.

It’s a soft kiss, a chaste kiss. Barely a brush of the lips but it sends pleasure zinging through him. Not the sort most think of related to sex, but the sort of warmth that his soulmate accepts him as is.

“Turn your earwig on and take your knives,” his Sansha suggests.

Running his knuckles down the scarring on the side of his love’s face, he nods in agreement.

“Stay safe, call if you need back up.” Alec tells him seriously, the same warning he has been given a hundred times, but it never bothers him because he knows it’s out of affection and concern, not control and lack of faith in his abilities.

“I’ve also got my phone,” he comments. “The same goes for you.”

“Yes,” his Sansha agrees, something he knows is not easy for the spy.

After kissing Alec again, he murmurs, “Until later, I should be back before dinner. Some of the folks I am going to meet know me, some not so much.”

“Which is why it would be best if you didn’t have a predator with you while making the connection,” his soulmate states in understanding, amusement lacing the older man’s voice.

He just smiles and laughs, leaving the house following a third kiss.

His walk takes him all over the city and since he is on foot, he stops from time to time to take breaks. The good thing is, he knows where some of the people he wishes to connect and reconnect with are at, so he times his breaks to run into them. Most remember him from taking this sort of walkabouts with his da, even if he wasn’t the center of their focus back then, making it easy to reconnect. Because he knows what he’s doing, he picks up a couple of backpacks and puts some basic supplies and loads each one up.

Along the way he meets several street kids a few of which try picking his pockets but he just smiles at them as he blocks the attempts, which surprises them. He wouldn’t say he made himself new friends, but his ability to keep them out of his pockets while picking theirs seems to impress them. He’ll probably see them several more times before he can start adding them to his network of people.

His meeting with Reid is set for in the morning, and he wants to get his ideas organized, so he turns to head back home, catching a cab part of the way and smiling when it ends up being one of the cabbie’s who used to work with his dad. It’s definitely been a successful day.


	103. Settling In

Jon’s POV  
The following weeks seem to go crazy. Alec has two missions that his soulmate runs with him guiding. He runs one for Aither’s Falco and works on starting the school first and foremost. He knows it is not the traditional sort of school, so he has to be careful about how he is planning on pulling it off. There will be a lot of paperwork to do for it, particularly since it is aimed at homeless people as a way for them to gain new skills and a way to get off the streets. Finding teachers willing to work on that sort of rotating schedule might be difficult but that’s not going to stop him from trying to do the same sort of circular classes and lessons offered in the Moscow school. Actually, maybe not, there are probably new teachers who need teaching jobs but haven’t been able to get on in a traditional setting.

His new assistant, a man named George that came highly recommended to him by Reid, is a very quick study, seeming to understand exactly what he is after with just a few short discussions. He has George looking for a few buildings for him to purchase, giving examples of the types he wants to acquire and what sort of buildings nearby work best. They’re supposed to go look at a few buildings that George thinks he’ll like next week.

Whenever he has free time, he’s been slowly sorting through MI6’s records after downloading the entire lot of them to a private server not connected to his normal one. Originally he was just going use a search and see what it pulled up. But the more he thought about it, he realized that the information he needs might be stored somewhere else that a search might not go through or recognize. So he is going to manually go through all the information and records, sending things he thinks need to be double checked to Aither to confirm or deny his theory.

He’s fairly sure he’s missing some vital information because there are several different missions for some of the other Double-O’s and agents that appear very unusual. Eventually, he just asks that she combs through the entire server when she has a chance and see what sort of patterns emerge.

The end results are several more weeks worth of work for both of them, however the details give them a better idea of what’s going on.

George takes him to see five different buildings. Of the five, only one of them is actually what he is after. However, there is a tenant building next door that his assistant hadn’t considered because of the layout of the inside. After contacting and speaking with the estate agent, he sets in a plan to purchase both buildings, leaving the details in George’s hands, almost a test to see how well his assistant does since he came on recommendation rather than because he thought George would be a good choice.

He gives his assistant the instructions for what he wants done with the tenant building and how he wants the other building dealt with. Most of the flats in the tenant building are currently open. The building is in disrepair, and he discovers all of the violations that have been filed over the years. He arranges with George to have crews come through, clean up and repair all of the flats. Telling his assistant to just speak with Reid if he needs funds, but make sure not to spend money just to.

Several more weeks pass, much in the same manner as the previous one’s since moving back. Twice his relatives try to bug him, despite advice from their solicitor not to. Twice they end up meeting Alec in a foul mood that nearly gets them killed. He’s not actually sure what reason the family has for showing up, especially considering they wanted nothing to do with him the last few years.

By time his birthday rolls around he is in the middle of purchasing the buildings and making sure they are all what he needs, has firmly established himself among the street kids, rebuilt his dad’s network for himself, and run three more missions for Alec, five for Dayesi, and three for Pyotr on top of helping with recruiting.

A few of his contacts happen to belong to MI5, but they don’t know that he’s the hacker Q10, they only know that he collects information the same way his dad did, and that he helps people where he can. They give him any information they can as well, because sometimes people know things that just aren’t recorded anywhere else. In exchange, he gives them some information on problems before they are full blown problems.

For his birthday, Aither and Sparks visit, their group going out to party for the evening without worrying about whether they are seen on cameras or not. They’re great at wiping the system and both of them will make sure that there is nothing left behind come morning, even check to see if the file was downloaded somewhere just to be safe.

When they get home, after everyone has left and it’s only Alec and him, he breaks down. He’s in his family home, bawling his eyes out because this was his home with his parents and they’re gone forever. His Sansha pulls him close, strong arms wrapping around him and just holding him as he mourns. He had sort of expected this to happen, with it being his first birthday back in his home.

“It’s alright, Vansha, let it out,” his soulmate murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

He just burrows into his Sansha’s hold, “They’re gone.”

Alec just hums, lightly kissing his temple, and being supportive by letting him process, not trying to convince him to stop or that it’s unimportant.

It takes a while for the emotions to run their course, but he doesn’t try to push them to go faster, knowing how badly that doesn’t work.

When he finally stops, he takes a few deep breaths, lifting his head off his soulmate’s shoulder and kissing Alec’s cheek. “Thank you, Sansha,” he whispers, because he knows emotions aren’t his spy’s cup of tea.

“Always Vansha,” his lover replies softly, affectionately smiling at him.

“Let’s get something hot to drink and go cuddle,” he suggests, not ready for anything else.

“You go get comfortable,” his Sansha suggests before pausing to ask, “What hot drink do you want?”

Chuckling weakly, he responds, “Surprise me please.”

“Will do,” Alec agrees, making a shooing motion at him.

Smiling sadly, he heads to their room, stripping out of his clothes and taking a quick shower. He knows his Sansha will have their drinks soon and he just wants to relax a bit tonight after rinsing most of the physical stress away.


	104. Expecations and Realizations

Alec’s POV  
Jon’s birthday goes better than he expects considering the situation. He figured that there was going to be a breakdown at some point. He’s just amazed it isn’t until afterwards, when it’s just them in the house that it happens. On second thought, no, he’s not. His Vansha is really good at holding it together when people are around or he has something that needs to be dealt with.

In the kitchen, he looks through the cupboard of hot drinks, chuckling to himself about the fact they have a cupboard full of hot drink options. That’s all Jon. Of course, he smirks, the cupboard next to it is all alcohols for him, so that’s all good.

What to make his Vansha? Hot tea doesn’t seem quite right. Coffee is not something his hacker enjoys. Maybe hot cocoa? There are a few different types up here. What to make, what to make? If it was him, it’d be vodka, but it’s Jon who doesn’t really like alcohol, so which is the younger man’s favorite? That’s mood dependent, however he’s going to just grab a box and see what he gets because that might be the easiest way to pick.

Reaching up without paying attention to what he’s grabbing, his fingers close around a box of hot dark chocolate with cinnamon. Nodding, he sets to making it without needing to look at the back. It’s something he’s watched his Vansha make on several different occasions.

While the milk is heating, he makes himself coffee, because he’d like something hot but doesn’t like tea and not in the mood for chocolate. Once he has their drinks, he grabs the container of biscuits off the counter, dropping them on the tray between the mugs, and upstairs to their bedroom.

It’s unsurprising that his soulmate took a quick shower while he was making the drinks. Showers seem to be Jon’s go-to for needing to relax, and while he likes joining the hacker, he understands sometimes alone is needed.

“That smells delicious,” Jon murmurs as the younger man emerges from the bathroom.

He smiles, setting the tray down on the bedside table. Turning towards the hacker, he watches as Jon pulls one of his shirts on, sending a wave of possessiveness through him the same way it always does, before grabbing a pair of sleeping bottoms and crawling into the bed. It takes him under two minutes to undress and change into his pajama bottoms and crawl into the bed next to his Vansha.

Once they are situated, he grabs the tray and settles it on their laps so they can both reach their drinks and the biscuits. He’s going to have to thank Mirianda cause there are a lot of different types in this container, all of them freshly made.

They spend a little while simply cuddling as they snack on the biscuits and drink their hot beverages. Jon makes him smile with the hums of appreciation the hacker makes as he sips. When they are done, he moves the tray and everything on it to the table before using the behind the bed switch to click the lights off.

“Thank you for understanding,” his Vansha mumbles against his shoulder, lightly kissing one of the burn scars.

“Always,” he replies seriously, wondering not for the first time if his life would have been different if he had processed his grief back then. Despite that, he’s happy with where he ended up, some would even call it content because he wouldn’t change his life with Jon. Except maybe that worry for two years about the fact he couldn’t get it up, but he’s pretty sure that little detail helped him accept the fact his Vansha can go months without any interest in sex.

They drift off to sleep with his arms wrapped securely around the hacker, their legs tangled together, and their bodies touching from shoulder.

Jon’s the first to wake a few hours later, which isn’t all that uncommon since the hacker is often awake longer than him. What’s unusual is the fact the smaller man wakes him up while untangling their bodies so his Vansha can use the bathroom. Normally the hacker is better about that.

“Something wrong?” he mutters as he comes awake.

“No, I just need the loo,” Jon replies, pressing a quick kiss to his temple.

Something about that seems off, and as he watches his Vansha cross the room, he notices the distracted expression on the younger man’s face. What’s got his soulmate so lost in thought the dark-haired man couldn’t slip from bed without waking him? He’ll ask when Jon gets back in bed. Only, long after he hears the water shut off after the hacker washed up, Jon doesn’t come back. So whatever it is has his Vansha trying not to disturb him.

Standing, he stretches and crosses the room to the bathroom, knuckles tapping lightly before he opens the door.

As he suspected, Jon’s perched on the edge of the sink, eyes lost in thought as the smaller man absently plays with one of the knives that they started keeping in the bathrooms of their home after the near kidnapping.

“What are you thinking about?” he queries, leaning against the door frame.

Blinking at him, because Jon’s not wearing glasses right now, his Vansha answers, “I just realized the piece I was missing in the code when trying to understand what was not there. Aither and I both missed it.”

He frowns as he considers that statement. Jon and Aither rarely miss things. What one might not pick up on, the other will. It’s part of why they make such a great team. Their skills complement each other, only overlapping in small ways.

“What did you miss?” he asks curiously.

“Every single mission that seemed odd where the agent died happened after the agent, whether a Double-O or regular agent, got close to James. Each and every time,” Jon replies absently, eyes still staring off into nothing as the information swirls through the hacker’s mind. “It’s an isolation campaign. The question is why? That’s what we’re not seeing. We don’t know who’s doing it, so we can’t answer that question. Without being able to answer that question, it would be pointless for us to attempt to confront James.”

He feels like he’s been sucker punched in the stomach. If he is not misunderstanding Jon, everything that happened, the betrayal, the briefing, everything, was because someone was trying to isolate his Storm.

Blinking, his Vansha’s head tips to the side as if realizing what was just said.

A moment later the younger man is off the counter, arms wrapping firmly around him, offering support and a silent apology for not warning him.

“Until we can discover who’s doing it, it’s best if we don’t seek him out,” he mumbles, his own mind spinning as he works what that sort of danger means. Right now, James is safest if they don’t confront the spy. It hurts because that’s part of why they moved here.

“Yes.” Jon hums in agreement, annoyance evident in the hacker’s voice. “I won’t stop searching until I have the answer. Neither will Aither. We don’t back away from challenges.”

That startles a laugh out of him because of exactly how true that statement is. In the four years he’s known Jon and the three he’s known Aither, neither have ever backed away from something because it was hard or dangerous, they’d simply change the tactics used instead.

“I know.” He states softly when the laughter subsides. “You’ll figure out who’s behind it, and then we’ll ruin their life.”

Hazel eyes turn dark gray as his Vansha hisses, “Yes.”

It might not be what he wants, but at least he has Jon, that’s more than he could ever ask for some days. Beyond that, he knows that Jon and Aither will do everything they have to in order to keep James from being killed in the meantime. It’s just a waiting game, patience might not be his strong suit in a lot of things, but when it comes to this, he refuses to be impatient, it could cost far too much.


	105. Around the Corner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an eight year time hop between the last chapter and this one

Jon’s POV  
Running missions for Sansha is not an uncommon thing. He does it whenever there is a danger to his soulmate, or whenever Alec turns the comms on and requests his assistance. What’s unusual is the fact both of his soulmates are currently in the same city. It’s the first time in nine years that this has happened. He knew it would eventually happen, but some reason he didn’t think it would be now.

As he guides Alec through a maze of crime networks and syndicates, provides maps and layouts, informs his spy of where risks are, his best friend is doing the same with James.

They compare notes on what the two missions are, determining that they shouldn’t end up anywhere near each other. The first meeting between them needs to be done on purpose, not because some freak chance during a mission. Alec’s mental and emotional health means far too much to him.

The hard part comes on the second to last day when they finally get to the warehouses where the hub of the human trafficking is happening at.

 _’I don’t know that Dayesi and I will be enough to deal with this mess without ending with a lot of innocent people dead.’_ Alec tells him after doing some scouting.

“Let me check who’s in the area,” he replies, fingers flying as he goes through their various networks, seeing if any of them will be handy.

In the years since Aither and him started building their own networks, well he started building a network, she started putting purpose to hers, they’ve come to an understanding about borrowing each other’s people.

“I’ve got one of our newer mercenary units two hours away. Falco and Quin are available and can be there in less than six hours.” He informs his soulmate, already sending off orders to the pair to make their way there. He’d rather have them on the way and not needed then to have them not on the way and needed.

 _’Tell me where the mercenary unit is, I’ll meet up with them. Send Quin and Falco, they can meet up with us so we can make this a pronged attack.’_ Alec replies a moment later.

“Information sent, Quin and Falco will meet you at the location in four hours eight minutes with traffic the current way it is.” He tells his love. When the corner of his screen flickers, he comments, “I’ll be right back, Aither wants something.”

 _’I’ll tell you when I reach them,’_ Alec replies, his soulmate’s mic going offline immediately after.

“Vic: Switch to Aither’s line, private link.” There is a double chime to let him know it worked, “What’s up?”

 _’Why’d you borrow Falco and Quin?’_ she queries, _’I’m currently trying to keep your hardhead out of injuring himself or getting killed. He’s making the worst possible choices.’_

His hisses at his screen, then suggests, “I’ll take over James, you take over Alec.”

 _’Deal,’_ she agrees. _’Get me up to speed.’_

It only takes him a few minutes to do so, telling her about everything from the moment she stopped following until now.

 _’Got it. This is a minimum loss scenario.’_ she confirms.

“Yes,” he concurs, “that’s the goal.”

 _’I’ll make sure Alec gets home safe.’_ she tells him, _’I might know a person or two who can be handy that are technically outside of our networks but owe me.’_

“Thanks Aither,” he replies as he switches over to James. “Are you suicidal?” he demands when he sees the situation his second soulmate is in. “I thought the Shadow Lady was wrong when she said you were picking the worst choices possible but she was right. Take a left and go upwards.”

 _’It’s good to hear your voice Kind One,’_ James replies jokingly.

“No flirting allowed unless you’re going to behave.” He snaps, hands flying over the keyboards.

 _’I always misbehave,’_ his second soulmate purrs.

At least James is doing as he bloody well said.

The next eight hours are spent with him not leaving his computer, and his awesome assistant bringing him hot tea, small bites, and taking the dirty dishes away. His assistant wears ear plugs in order to not listen in as he gives directions to the various people who work for him, and his occasional MI6 agents.

The problem comes when Aither cuts into his screen. —GET HIM OUT OF THERE IMMEDIATELY—

—On it.— he replies, hands flying as he looks for an exit and borrows a damned satellite to see what the problem is. Shit. James and Alec are on the same damn street. If James goes north instead of south he should be able to keep them from running into each other.

“Take a right, duck in that building, use it to cut across, your target is in the next building.” He orders the spy, praying that this is going to be one of the times when James listens to him.

Thankfully the spy obeys, but a second to late, and he hears the disbelieving, horrified, keening, _’Alec?’_ just before something snaps and James goes into predator mode, losing track of everything but his target.

He knows exactly what’s happening. He’s seen Alec do it to deal with situations that are emotionally draining. Only, Alec has him to walk him back afterwards, to help restore the balance. How does James do it? Is this why James is spiraling out of control?

He walks the spy through the rest of the mission, tempted, so very tempted to give James the address, if only to save his second soulmate from himself. But he won’t risk Alec like that. He can’t do that until they agree. Hopefully they can agree before something goes horribly wrong. He stays on the line, softly talking about anything and everything he can think of to keep James engaged, to keep the spy’s focus on him, it even seems to work. Right up until the mission brief, where his second soulmate refuses medical evaluation and refuses to take time off.

So M sends him to the Q-Branch to gear up and sends James on another mission. He hacks her computer to look into what it is, and damn near puts his fist through the screen. Whenever they meet, they are going to have serious words with each other.

“Vic: switch to Aither’s private line.” He orders the system. As soon as it chimes, “I need Dayesi and Malcolm, can they be spared?”

 _’Yes,’_ she answers almost immediately, understanding there’s a major problem for him to be pulling the Cuban-Russian assassin away from her current job protecting Alec. _’How can I help?’_

“Keep Alec safe.” He replies firmly, already running codes in his mind as he hacks the systems, one after another, using his second screen name, the one that is routed through more than one-hundred proxy servers and has no ties to Q10.

 _’Will do.’_ she replies before sign off.

There’s a lot of work to be done.


	106. Damn Near Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >>Memories/hallucinations of the past< <

James POV  
It’s impossible, no way in hell that could have been Alec. He was hallucinating. He had to have been. Alec’s been dead for ten years. He knows, he’s the one who killed him. He dropped his soulmate off of the GoldenEye dish, heard the sickening crunch of bones breaking, the pained moan and rattled breath. There is no way Alec survived.

It’s time, he thinks, I’ve finally lost my mind. There is nothing left for me.

Hours later, he gladly accepts the suicide mission that M offers him. It’s a chance to go out with a bang. He can die doing the right thing, better him than one of the younger agents who's still learning the ropes. He’s washed up, worthless, broken.

 _’Don’t do this.’_ the Kind One’s voice cuts across his line, surprising him because he didn’t know that the other man was still there.

“I have to,” he replies absently, walking down to the Q-Branch to get his gear. What a joke.

 _’I’ll meet you wherever you’d like,_ ’ the voice offers, something in it he doesn’t understand, tempting him with something he wants.

“This is my life,” he responds, nodding to the major who sets to showing him all his gear before wishing him luck.

_’If you could ask for anything what would it be?’_

“The impossible,” he snaps, images of Alec filling his mind, making it hard to focus.

He can still remember the time they blew up an embassy because there was a terrorist cell in the basement. How afterwards he’s shoved Alec back against the wall in an alley just few streets away. He’d pulled his soulmate’s cock out and jerked him off while whispering the most obscene things he could think of. His soul got revenge at the hotel, teasing him until he was a writhing mess of need, nearly begging but not quite before finally getting him off.

Or the time they were sent to protect a princess, so they protected her by keeping her in bed between them for three days.  M was not amused, but that M was a very different creature than the one he now answers to.

Nights spent fucking, cleaning weapons, or sharpening blades.

 _’At least accept help_.’ He realizes that the voice in his ear never stopped speaking, even as he was lost in memory.

“I don’t need help,” he retorts, “Don’t you know I’m Bond, James Bond?”

 _’Your first name was Hamish before you accepted that job,’_ the Kind One snaps.

That makes him stop in place, eyes narrowing even though he can’t actually see the person making him feel that way. There’s only one person who knew his legal name used to be Hamish and he’s dead. How could this person know that? But then, how has the Kind One known any of the things known over the years? Some of it is impossible. Or so he thought but apparently not.

 **> >**”I don’t think you’re a good Hamish,” Alec had whispered in his ear as the blonde had rutted into him, the only person he ever bottomed for. “You make a much better James.” Pinning him to the mattress in their London flat provided by MI6.

He had laughed, bucking backwards into the firm body holding him, biting back a moan as his soulmate hit his prostate, he retorted, “Hamish is James.”

“No,” his lover bit his shoulder, worrying an impressive mark into his skin, spending sparks of pleasure pain through him. “Hamish is a warrior of old, a sense of conduct and family.” Alec had just about withdrawn to ram back into him hard, slamming into his prostate. “James is a spy and assassin.”

“Yes,” he hissed in agreement or pleasure, he's not sure. **< <**

The images fade, leaving him standing next to the car.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He replies sliding into his car and sitting there for several minutes before he is calm enough to drive. He doesn't want to be seeing things while on the road.

’ _Right and I’m American,’_ his long time unknown handler retorts with a snort.

“I’m not sure what you are,” he comments, a question he has long wondered about. Is the voice on the other end of the line American? He knows the woman referred to as the Shadow Lady who sometimes helps him is. She told him as much.

The Kind One, the one that infers most of all and he sometimes calls Q for Questionable, he knows nothing about. He’s pretty sure that Q is British, but then there are some words the hacker says with the proper pronunciation, no trace of the British accident, and there was that one occasion where the hacker started cussing him out in an interesting combination of Scottish Gaelic, Russian and French. He’s pretty sure Q knows English, Russian, Scottish Gaelic, Arabic -though he couldn’t pinpoint dialect, Mandarin Chinese, Uyghur, and Greek. He just doesn’t know why. Is the hacker’s day job that of a translator?

 _’What I am is someone who’d prefer not see you injured,’_ the voice snaps in nearly the same tone as that memorial cuss out.

 **> >**”James don’t fucking do that again!” Alec had snarled, shoving him hard against the wall.

“I was only doing what you would have!” he lashed out, temper flaring violently as he uppercuts his partner and soulmate.

Years of sparring together have Alec side step and block, hands closing around his collar to haul him forward. Their lips meet hard, there is nothing nice or clean about it, it’s hard and violent, just an edge of danger.

“I can’t lose you,” Alec muttered in Russian.

He hadn’t been able to respond, only to kiss back harder. **< <**

Shaking his head, he forces the memories back. He can’t think of that now.

“Don’t worry, this will probably be my last mission,” he replies absently, putting the car in gear and willing himself to get far enough to deal.

 _’Not if I have anything to say about it!’_ Q snarls in Scottish Gaelic.

It would have been nice to talk to the hacker in the language he grew up with, he thinks as the line goes quiet. The road stretches before him in horrifying silence but he can’t bring himself to turn the music on. Instead he lets the memories wash through him, replaying the best five years of his life and the gradual downwards slide into depression and paranoia. He knows that he should stop himself before something crashes and kills him. He’s survived so many things that should have killed him. He just wishes something would work.

When he reaches the ferry, he stops blocking and allows it to wash through him.

 **> >**”I got the job!” he tells his training partner, excitement strumming through him.

Alec smirked, holding up a folded piece of paper.

“That’s perfect!” he exclaims, “We can become Double-O’s together.”

They ended up smashed that night to the point where neither of them remembered anything the following day. **< <**

Barely a breath later, another rushes to the forefront.

 **> >**”What the bloody hell was that?” he snarled at the man laid up in the bed in medical.

“Piss-poor aim on their side,” Alec replied calmly, amusement lacing the blonde’s tone.

“You could have died, you’re not supposed to throw yourself in front of bombs,” he snapped furiously. He hadn’t wanted to admit that he was terrified his partner would die. He hadn’t wanted to admit that he wanted more than just a partnership with the half-Russian.

Shrugging, the blanket covering Alec had slipped downwards and a familiar sight caught his attention. Alec has the same soulmark as him. That means, how’s it possible he didn’t know? Is that why he feels so protective even though he knows it’s not going to do him any good? Is that why he wants to spend so much time kissing and fucking his best friend? As far as he knows, Alec’s not interested in men, only women.

“Alec,” he had damn near whispered, hands swiftly unbuttoning his shirt. It’d be easier to show than tell.

They got yelled at several minutes later by the nurse that they ignored as Alec dragged him on the bed and proceeded to plunder his mouth. That’s alright, he did some plundering of his own. **< <**

He barely has time to breathe, let alone think before the next memory is rushing through, throwing him into the second worst day of his life.

 **> >**Terror rushed through his body. Disbelief and denial close on its heels when he spotted his soulmate on his knees before that rat-faced Russian bastard.

“Move out, throw down your weapon, and walk towards me,” the general ordered him, gun pointed point blank at Alec’s head.

His soul might have been on his knees but his fellow Double-O’s head jerked towards him, shouting, “Finish the job, James, blow them all to hell!”

When the rat-face bastard started counting down, he quickly changed the clock on the timer closest to him. Slowly he had walked out with his hands up trying to figure out how he was going to get Alec out of this. This isn’t how this mission is supposed to go.

“For England, James!” Alec yelled, his soulmate’s eyes were on the gun and head jerking as the trigger is pulled.

The sound of that gun going off had spurred him into action. Alec was lost to him. Everything felt like fire even before the explosion ripped the building apart behind him. **< <**

Chest heaving, he shoves the memories aside once more, it’s time to drive. There is a target in his near future, one he probably won’t survive. Maybe if he’s very lucky or very cursed, he’ll be with Alec again. Like the drive across England, the drive towards his target is too quiet, leaving plenty of space for snippets of conversation, fleeting impressions of memory, and the same overwhelmingly aching sense of loss he has felt every day since he dropped Alec to his death.

He is barely aware enough to pull the car to the side of the road before he is thrown backwards in time to the very worst possible.

 **> >**Alec was Janus. His soulmate was Janus. How is that possible? He thought, emotions warring through him as he remembers everything leading up to now. Alec speaks but the words make no sense, a plot, a tale, something, storm? What does any of that have to do with why his soulmate is a traitor? Not only to England but to him? _How? Damn it! How?_

Hours, days, he doesn’t know it all blended together in a blur of pain and fury, they had taken turns trying to kill each other, only he doesn’t remember Alec being this bad of a shot. They had beaten the hell out of each other. Punching and kicking, throwing each other into things, and using whatever was handy to do as much damage as possible.

When Alec leveled the gun at him, he thought he was dead. At this range there was no way his soulmate would miss, and truthfully, he didn’t want him to.

Instead Alec had taken a moment to catch his breath, taunting, “You know James, I was always better.”

Which gave him just enough time to escape only to what seemed like certain death, yet he had lived and in the process killed Alec. He should have died, but he didn’t. He refused to.

_Alec._ **< <**

Several minutes are spent sitting there, his entire body burning with remembered pain and sorrow. The soulmark never faded, even though it should have. He just assumed that it stayed because he wasn’t ready to let Alec go. There was no way that Alec could have survived. Not that fall, not that damage. Alec is dead. His soul. His love. The reason he fought so long to stay alive is dead. Nothing will change that, no matter how much he wishes.

“I’d wish for the impossible,” he whispers to the silence. “I’d wish for one more day with Alec.”

Oo-O-oO

Jon’s POV  
He hears the quiet wish, the answer he’d hope for, a reason to keep the spy alive despite everything. With that in mind, he uses his contacts to clear the path. He’s made a great many friends over the years in his job as a hacker, but even more people in his role as intelligence gatherer.

“You’ll get that wish. I just hope you realize how lucky you are,” he murmurs in Scottish Gaelic, leaving the mic off but still able to hear every word being said.

When James reaches the point where his mission officially begins, his second soulmate doesn’t get far. He had enlisted Dayesi to stop him, finish the mission as needed, because she is as dangerous, maybe more so, than James. No one ever expects danger out of her. Malcolm picked the spy up in the helicopter, getting his second soulmate out of danger, and leaving him in the safe arms of one of his contacts.

If Amritleen Kaur Bhindar chooses to sleep with James while working on healing his soulmate to a point where the spy is coping, if not functioning, he can’t be upset by it. Not when he knows that she might be one of the best chances for making it to the point where James can be confronted. 


	107. Back Home

Alec’s POV  
He’s happy when he gets home, keying in the code and using his key to enter the house. 

That was far too close for his tastes. He’s not quite the adrenaline junkie he used to be, even if he still enjoys the thrill of a challenge or the sight of an explosion. This last mission had him in Hong Kong, dealing with a kidnapping ring that made the mistake of kidnapping one of Jon’s network while she was doing what she thought was a legitimate job interview. She had gotten the panic code sent out before they took her phone, and Vansha got the code only moments later. There hadn’t been anyone in the immediate area that could help out, but that didn’t stop his hacker from tracking her using a series of satellites and cameras, taking snapshots of every person she came in contact that could be seen. 

Then the information gathering had begun. Aither and Jon competed against each other as they found out who each of the faces belonged to, and all of their contact information. Building the criminal network and chain had taken the pair a week, because they wanted to make sure that they were not wrong about anything. 

He’d watched in fascination as the hacker systematically destroyed every security systems, set different police forces after some of the people with a calmness that hid the fury below the surface. He’s well aware that his Rowan doesn’t take people messing with the networks very well. Once the information was gathered, his love had asked who would be best to go in and clean this mess up. Which is Jon speak for kill every one of them. Of course he volunteered, it’s been a long while since he got to play the role of rescuer and executioner at the same time. 

Only the mission hadn’t gone as smooth as it should. One of the pea-brained idiots he was killing managed to trigger an alarm and he had to think fast to keep from getting shot. Of course, his soulmate gave him plenty of useful information. Telling him where all the problems were by hacking the security in the main building. Not wise, having a security system that can so easily be hacked. Not that the target realized how easy they could be hack attacked apparently. Most people never do, or maybe most hackers aren't like Jon and Aither.

When all was said and done, there are over two-hundred people in the compound who needed rescuing, including the woman who started it all. She hugged him when he shot the lock off the cage she was in with several other people, a rather unsettling feeling because he doesn’t actually like for other people to hug him, only those he is closest to. 

Now, well, now he’s home. Now to go find his love and kiss the hacker senseless because it’s been nearly two weeks since he has been able to do that. Maybe there'll be other fun moments, enjoyable, and pleasurable times.

It’s not surprising he finds Jon in the hacker’s office, the computer screens each scrolling text, images, or video. Most of it is regarding his mission and the aftermath, because of course his soulmate is keeping track of that. 

What catches his attention is the one scrolling right in front of Vansha, flickering between codes and images as the hacker keeps track of someone. Who is that?

“James saw you during that mess, didn’t respond well, he’s still convinced you’re dead and he’s just seeing things.” Jon tells him, spinning in the chair to face him, eyes serious and concerned. “As soon as he got back to MI6, they sent him back out. On what is definitely considered a suicide mission. I think the goal was to snap him out of the mess going on in his head since he refuses to see medical. I pulled Dayesi off your mission to go assist his arse.”

He flinches, because he thought he had seen James, but the man was nearly the same height as him, and his Storm was taller than him. What has happened to his first soulmate that would cause the spy to lose that much height? Long ago he asked his Rowan not to tell him when things go horribly wrong unless he asks just because he can’t know everything going wrong without wanting to find and help James.

“I don’t like the fact he is spiraling out of control, but I don’t know whether we should try to connect with him or not since we still don’t know who is trying to isolate him.” Jon explains, a frown curving the young man's lips and furrowed brow. 

He nods in understanding. It’s the same problem they have been running into for the last seven years. There have been a few times he wanted to say fuck it and just do it. Then he remembers everything and everyone that has been destroyed by whoever is doing this and he keeps to their plan. 

“I’m nearly done here,” Jon tells him, glancing back at the screen. “How about a massage?”

He nods in agreement, “That’d be nice.”

Smiling at him, the younger man nods back before turning back to the computer.  “This should be no more than half an hour, Aither’s actually taking over. She just had to finish dealing with an idiot who thought it would be a good idea to attack one of her shelters for some reason.”

Snorting, he shakes his head and mutters, “That was dumb of them. She doesn’t like taking prisoners, so that leaves other methods of dealing with problems.”

“Exactly,” Jon agrees, “I’ll take a shower with you if you’d like? Before the massage, of course.”

He smirks, enjoying the idea and leaves the office to head up to their bedroom.

Looking around, he knows that besides changing clothes, Jon hasn’t been in here. That means the hacker’s probably been sleeping in the library whenever the younger man crashes for a few hours.

Smiling softly, he gets all the massage supplies out, selecting what scents would be most welcome. They actually have a wide variety of scents and oil types, used for different moods and purposes. He might have been aroused when he first got home, but that went out the window with Vansha’s news. 

James has seen him. Does that mean that it will be easier when they finally do confront his first soulmate? Probably not, there will be anger over the fact he hadn’t told James he’s alive. No never mind James tried killing him, a fact he still gets furious about sometimes. 

No, he’s not going to focus on that right now, he thinks. The mission was successful. The trafficking ring is broken. Most of the traffickers are dead or wishing they are dead. The victims have been returned home or will be in the near future by the authorities. He got to blow up three buildings and a car. 

Sooner than he expects, Jon enters there room, humming something he doesn’t immediately recognize.

“That’s not Metallica,” he comments as he turns towards his lover. 

“Tantric, Down and Out,” Jon replies with a snicker. “It’s another good song for us. Aither sent it to me of course.”

“Of course,” he agrees with a chuckle, knowing how often they share music, along with so much else. Crossing the room to stand in front of the hacker, he asks, “May I?” motioning to the clothes Jon’s wearing. 

“Yes,” Vansha replies warmly.

He takes his time undressing the hacker, enjoying the way anticipation builds in the air. They’ll probably not have sex, but that doesn’t mean it will not be a pleasant night with touch and connection being the goal. One of the first things he learned when they got together was touch didn’t have to be sexual to be meaningful. 

“Take turns with massages?” he suggests, knowing that originally Jon was planning on giving him one and then they could cuddle. 

Smiling affectionately at him, the younger man nods in agreement, “That’d be nice.”

“Perfect,” he hums.

“May I?” Vansha asks, hands just above the straps of his combat suit.

“Always,” he replies, right before capturing the younger man’s lips in a slow kiss.

It’s going to be a good night, he decides, because he wants it to be and will make sure it is. His Rowan deserves nothing less.


	108. Thinking Through Problems

Jon’s POV  
Two months after Alec’s last mission, the one where James saw Sansha, he is extremely concerned for the third member of their triad. Since he got the spy out by the very skin of his teeth, it seems as if James is determined to kill himself through alcohol poisoning or by being reckless. He even tries bargaining with James, agreeing to a meeting if only the spy would stop being so careless.

It doesn’t work.

More than that, he’s been able to determine that the person who is causing all of this doesn’t belong to MI5 or MI6. That means he could meet James safely without revealing who he is. He’s not willing to do that without agreeing to it with Alec. So it’s time for them to have another discussion on the topic.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he stands up, slipping an earwig in and turning on the speaker but not the microphone. He’ll go work in the gym for a few minutes. See if that helps him clear his mind so he can figure out how to broach the topic. It’s bound to be stressful. It always is.

How is he going to help James? His primary focus has been Alec since the day he met his Sansha, back before he knew that Alec would choose to stay with him, something he still has a hard time believing eleven, almost twelve, years later. He can’t help someone who doesn’t know he’s doing so, or who doesn’t want help. The question is: how can he get James to want help?

Growling to himself, he takes to the gymnastic bars, using the motions as a way to clear his mind.

If this was a code to break, how would he do it? He wonders as he flips from one bar to the higher bar across from it. Start by breaking the parts of it down. He did that with Alec. Maybe he needs to think of the situation with James in the same manner as the situation with Sansha. That could be the key.

Twisting his body around, he grabs the bar he had flipped off of, to pull him back, doing a flip over it before landing on top, carefully rising to his feet to balance for a moment.

So, break James down in a code. All of the parts and see how they can be worked with or manipulated. Probably not what anyone would call polite, but he doesn’t care. That’s not the point of them. The point is to get his second soulmate out of a situation where death is the preferred option.

Spy, alcoholic, womanizer, distrustful, broken-hearted, excellent aim, determined, strong willed, arrogant, lonely, hopeless.

That’s a rather interesting list, is he missing anything? He’s pretty sure he’s missing some. Bunching his muscles together, he springs forward, grabbing the highest bar to do a flip and drop, landing lightly on his feet as he continues to think about it.

Scotsman, orphan, sly, underhanded, questionable morals, marksman, explosive, guilt-ridden, paranoid, scarred, foolish, seductive.

How are all of the pieces fitting together? He wonders as he absently, slips a throwing knife in his hand and lets it go sailing before doing a backflip and repeating the throw with his other knife.

 _’Are you listening in currently Q10?’_ his best friend asks, drawing his attention to the earpiece.

“Vic: speaker on,” he states clearly, listening for the soft chime before answering her, “Yeah, I’m listening as I play in the gym for a bit.”

 _’Can I borrow your thinking ability? You can keep working in the gym. I don’t need computer help currently.’_ She requests with a snicker.

“What’s the problem?” he asks as he fetches his throwing knives. He should figure out if he can toss them while in the middle of a motion. He can hit someone else with them while the target is in motion, but he’s not sure how well his aim is while he’s in motion. How has he not thought of that before now? He wonders with a mental chuckle.

 _’Quin asked for my advice in how to get Sparks to notice them.’_ she replies, frustration coloring her voice. _’How would I know? I got Sparks attention by kicking his ass in the ring. He never expected a five foot tall woman to wipe the floor with him but that’s what I did.’_

He laughs, he can’t help it, because that is such an Aither thing to do.

“Suggest being blunt? Hasn’t Quin been part of your team for nearly ten years?” he asks as he goes back to working on the bars this time trying a trick where he uses his legs to hold him up while he twists his body around to toss the first knife at the target. He’s slightly amazed when it hits.

 _’Quin has been,’_ she agrees, _’I have no idea if the chemist understands the concept of blunt. From what I know, the answer is no, they like being vague.’_

“Good luck,” he tells her, cause that is probably stressful.

 _’Thanks,’_ she mutters sarcastically, turning serious to ask, _’So what are you thinking about that has you in the gym?’_

“James,” he replies bluntly.

 _’That’s a sore subject. Why?’_ she queries.

“He’s attempting to kill himself.” He replies, “Without actually interfering, I am trying to figure out a way to keep him from doing so. I even offered to meet him, since he’s wanted that, but he disregarded it.”

 _’I think interfering is going to have to be it. We can send one of my boys if you’d like? Or one of my girls if you think that’d work better.’_ She suggests after a few minutes.

“From what I can tell, he hasn’t slept with a man since everything happened between him and Alec, although I think he planned to a couple of times only for them to die before anything could come of it.” He replies, thinking about her offer. “I just don’t think someone going in as a mark will do the trick. I’m worried the only thing that will work is the thing we don’t want to do until we know who’s pulling the strings.”

 _’I get that,’_ she hums. _’Intrigue him with a game of tag?’_

“That’d intrigue M more than him,” he answers, sighing before flipping to land back on the floor.

 _’Kidnap him?’_ she offers, _’I could totally kidnap him, and then you can rescue him, and everything will be wonderful.’_

“Sarcasm is not helping here, Aither.” He retorts with a snicker.

 _’Who’s being sarcastic? ’_ she asks.

He just laughs because he knows that’s probably not going to work either.

 _’Discuss it with Alec, kidnapping could totally be the way to go.’_ She remarks, _’Best case: you get your second soulmate. Worst case: you have to break his spirit, which I don’t think would be hard, and then brainwash him.’_

He starts laughing, and finds he can’t stop, so nearly twenty minutes later when Alec gets home he is still standing in the middle of the gymnastics equipment laughing.

“What’d Aither say this time?” Sansha asks curiously.

 _’You think I’m joking but I’m really not.’_ She tells him, _’Seriously, talk with him about it, hit me back when you need to chat.’_

Before he has a chance to respond, she’s gone.

“She suggested kidnapping for dealing with James, either she could kidnap him and we could ‘rescue’ him or we can kidnap him to have a chat,” he answers his soulmate.

“That’s a very Aither way to approach the topic,” Alec remarks. “Sounds exactly like something she’d do and you’d help with.”

Trying for an innocent face, he replies, “Why I’d never do that.”

They both burst out laughing because he has in fact helped her kidnap someone before. It ended up being a good thing, but that’s totally not the point.

They’ll discuss James, and he’ll share the fact it’s no one at MI5 or MI6 that is the threat, but he still doesn’t know who, and discuss it some more. He doesn’t know when they will go for James, he just knows it’s going to be very soon.


	109. Train and Shot

Jon's POV  
Sometimes he wonders how he ended up with both of his soulmates being spies. Like right now as he listens to Bond being given orders by Tanner, M's right hand man, rather than by anyone from Q-Branch. A part of him wonders why he is being handled by someone who doesn't normally run missions until he has his computer fully booted and in the MI6 system. Someone made a list of all the operatives working deep cover from NATO. More than that, the list gives both sides of the identity, the truth and cover, that's definitely an issue. Bigger issue, the operative who had the list, Ronsan, is possibly compromised and called for backup and assistance. That's why Bond is on his way there.

Well shit, he thinks, this has all the makings of a very bad mission.

Tapping his earwig on, he changes frequencies so he can speak with Aither, if she's available that is.

' _You're buzzing, whatcha need?_ ' she asks distractedly as it comes online.

He smiles, fingers flying over the keyboards as he sees if he has anyone in the area that could offer assistance if needed. ' _Assistance for Bond dealing with a NATO problem,_ ' he answers calmly, quickly going through his list of contacts and discovering that he has none in Turkey. He'll have to fix that.

' _Where at?_ ' she queries, and he hears her start tapping away at her keyboard.

' _Istanbul, Turkey,_ ' he answers, ' _Apparently I have no one in Turkey._ '

Chuckling, she remarks, _'You're in luck. Falco and Malcolm are in that area now._ '

‘ _Ronsan's down,_ ’ Bond states, not knowing he has two extra people listening to him. ‘ _He needs a medical evac._ ’

He's almost startled when M's voice comes across the line instead of Tanner's. ‘ _Where is it? Is it there?_ ’

So it's not just Tanner running this then, it's both of the people who run MI6. So they know exactly how badly this could go, he thinks as he finds a satellite to use in order to watch the situation unfold.

‘ _Hard drives gone,_ ’ Bond answers his boss calmly.

‘ _Are you sure?_ ’ M's voice is almost shrill, some would even call it panicky.

He's just got the satellite locked on Bond's location and scanning the building when the spy responds, ‘ _It's gone. Give me a minute._ ’

Immediately the older woman calms down, ordering, ‘ _They must have it. Get after them_.’

On his screen the grainy image pops up of a person in a chair, heat signature unstable. That must be Ronsan. Kneeling in front of the chair is a second person, whom he assumes is Bond.

It's not going to work, he thinks, that heat signature is too erratic.

‘ _I'm stabilizing Ronsan.’_ his second soulmate states, and he watches as the spy tries.

‘ _You don't have the time,_ ’ M snaps.

' _Falco and Malcolm are yours to use,_ ' Aither tells him. ' _They are making their way to where the comm signature is currently to provide cover as needed. There are two signatures, I have them following the one that's outside._ '

' _Thanks_ ,' he replies, listening to the exchange between Bond and M, knowing this isn't going to be pretty.

He stays quiet as he follows with the satellite, watching as two vehicles go at it in the street before motorbikes join the fray. Gun fire from at least three weapons can be heard, and his mind automatically calculates what each one he hears is as he continues to observe.

' _Dark haired man in taupe appears to be the one causing problems,_ ' Malcolm reports, ' _I've got him in my sights._ '

' _Then shoot him,_ ' he replies calmly, ' _Avoid hitting civilians._ '

A low chuckle is the response he gets right before more the low pulse echoes through the line. ' _Hit him, but he's still moving, bastard managed to get a torso shot rather than a head shot cause he isn't staying still._ '

' _Now on a motorcycle,_ ' Falco reports, ' _Follow?_ '

' _Yes. Follow,_ ' he answers, changing the satellites position so it can change views and scan the new area.

' _I have some things to take care of, page me if you need me,_ ' Aither tells him before her end goes quiet.

Shaking his head, he bites back a chuckle knowing that she has her end muted but can still hear what's going on. His attention quickly returns to the spies and the game they are playing, following them through the Bazaar and over its roof. He's rather thankful that the satellite he picked is in such good repair, it allows him to get images that are only half a second behind.

Alec comes up behind him according to the familiar feel and arms that loop around him loosely. "Problem?" his love inquires, pressing a kiss to directly below the ear without a earwig in it.

"Maybe. Someone was stupid enough to make a list of NATO operatives and it’s currently in some unsavory character’s hands. Bond and a partner are chasing the thief, as is Falco and Malcolm."

His Sansha gets tense when he says partner, and he understands completely. After all, Alec was Bond's partner when they still worked together, before everything that happened. In the last eight years there have been several partners of their soulmate’s who have ended up dead just because they were James’ partners.

Ducking his head, he kisses the hand resting on his shoulder without taking his eyes off the screen. This is going to get tricky, he thinks.

When the conversation about trapping the thief on the bridge happens, he immediately sees a problem with that plan, in the form of a train going beneath that bridge. Chance are the thief is going to use that train to get out of dodge. It’s what he would do in that situation.

' _Falco, Malcolm, get on that train. Chances are high that's where the thief is going to go to escape Bond and the other one._ ' He orders the pair on loan.

' _On it_ ,' Malcolm answers for the both of them.  A few moments later while he is listening to MI6 agents, Malcolm continues, ' _We're on, but there are a lot of civilians._ '

Several more minutes pass as he listens to the gunfire through the comms and watches with the borrowed satellite.

' _There is a ravine bridge up ahead, can one of you get in a spot to shot the thief there?_ ' he inquires as he quickly looks ahead, following the trains path to see what the satellite shows.

' _I can_ ,' Falco  answers, ' _Already climbing on top the train to do so. Those two are moving a lot._ '

‘ _I may have a shot_ ,’ the partner states, voice far too uncertain for his tastes. ‘ _It's not clean. Repeat: I do not have a clean shot_.’

Just as M orders the partner to shoot, he cuts the contact between Bond, the partner, and MI6 taking over the comms as he has done plenty of times in the past.

' _Bond. When I say drop, drop._ ' He orders, cutting in and hoping that the spy listens as he has in the past.

' _I've got target, you get the blonde out of my way and I'll shoot the other one._ ' Falco tells him coolly.

' _Drop!_ ' he barks.

According to the image the spy hesitates just a moment before doing just that. Less than a breath later an explosion rips through the comms as the rifle goes off. His hands fly over the keyboard as he looks up who the second agent is and lets MI6 have their comms back.

‘ _I lost the hard drive. It went over with him._ ’ Bond states as he turns the comms back on.

‘ _What just happened? Report!_ ’ M snaps angrily.

‘ _An unknown shooter took out the man with the hard drive,_ ’ Moneypenny answers as Bond catches his breath.

‘ _Bond report_.’ M orders, voice a little calmer but still angry.

‘ _I was shot. I caught the man. I fought with him. He nearly choked me. He was shot off the train in the ravine. I lost the hard drive. It was wrapped around his hand when he went over._ ’ His second soulmate answers.

He sighs in relief before asking Aither's pair, ' _Kill shot or chance he's going to be back?'_

' _I shot him in the leg, aimed for the artery though with the movement I can't confirm_ _I got the artery. Only that he's been shot in the leg_.’ Falco replies irritably, the older man not used to being unsure of his answer. He's well aware of exactly how much that frustrates the sniper.

' _Get your weapons out of sight and lay low,_ ' he tells them. ' _We'll deal with any aftermath that comes up. I've already started setting alarms for if someone tries to out anyone who belongs to NATO or undercover. Thank you. Now why were you there in the first place?_ '

' _Congratulate me_ ,' Falco responds in dark amusement. ' _I became a grandfather and father-in-law all at once. Apparently my idiot youngest son met one of his soulmates, got her knocked up, and bolted. Her father decided to track him down and offer a wedding or a funeral._ '

' _Good reason_ ,' he hums, continuing to watch the satellite as his second soulmate gets off the top of the train and into one of the carriages.

Bond is moving slower than he should be, but then James did say he was shot. Perhaps he should have Malcolm or Falco 'find' him to take a look and see if he can be of assistance?

‘ _Bond, get your injury treated, then you are to search the area to see if you can find it or the body._ ’ M orders the spy.

Something still seems off. It will require him looking further into it. Just not right this minute since apparently James is already safe. Maybe this is the key Aither and him have been looking for in the last eight years, the one that leads them to who is causing all this strife.

' _If you can subtly check on him that'd be appreciated,_ ' he tells Aither's pair as he continues to type. _'I'll set up a fund for the kid for the future. Knowing your youngest it'll be needed._ '

' _We can do that, and probably, it has to come from Hawke's mother._ ' Falco responds with a sigh.

He turns the active comm off, he'll still be able to hear but they won't hear him until he turns it back on. Right now he wants to have a conversation with Alec about this, and look up more information to see who's at fault for all of this.


	110. It's Time

Alec's POV  
When he first entered the office, he's unsurprised to see Jon running a mission. It's not an uncommon sight, so he doesn't think anything of it until he listens to what's being said. His heart skips a beat when he hears a woman he doesn't know order James' partner to take a shot that could kill his soulmate. Even if it has been years since he last saw James, he still doesn't want his Storm to be killed by someone James is supposed to be able to trust for this mission.

Relief floods his system when Jon cuts in and orders James to drop, the echo of a rifle shot cutting across the comms moments later.

As soon as their soulmate is safe and Aither’s pair are checking on James to make sure the spy stays that way, his Rowan clicks the microphone off on his earwig. That is, if he's not misreading the hackers actions when his hand comes up to touch his ear.

Without bothering to explain, he answers the question asked several days before. "Yes," he states, eyes flicking between Vansha and the computer screen.

For a moment the younger man's eyes narrow before understanding dawns and they widen slightly. Jon nods sharply once, the smaller man quickly stands to give him a long hug.

He wraps his arms around the narrower frame and just holds the smaller man to him.

Closing his eyes, and holding tight to his Rowan, he comments, "As much as I don't want you working for MI6, I think it's time.”

It leaves a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. It’s almost as if his fears from years long past are finally happening. No. That's not happening. Jon's not leaving him for James. Jon's going to meet James, and maybe bring him home eventually so they can clear the air. What happens after that all depends on how everything goes. He's sure that his Rowan isn't going to chose his Storm over him.

Leaning back a bit, Vansha studies his face, remarking, "You have that expression that normally means you think I am leaving."

In the years since he met Jon, the younger man grew to the point they are nearly eye to eye. The younger man's slender frame filled out, but he didn't put on heavy muscle, instead he seemed to become solid, all long lines and lithe muscles. Of course they are mostly hidden beneath layers of clothes. Vibrant hazel golden-green eyes flash behind glasses, often hiding exactly how dangerous Vansha can be. These glasses are far more interesting than the ones from back then since he knows they are programmed to run computer codes. How the boffin can see the code he doesn't know considering that without the glasses his Rowan is extremely nearsighted. Maybe that's it, the glasses are so close to the younger man's face he doesn't have any issues.

"I know you're not," he responds seriously, "I'm just," he pauses, looking for the right word, "wary, of how this is going to go."

Pressing a soft kiss to the bottom of his chin, Jon states, "I'm going to put myself in MI6's sights, get the job as quartermaster. Meet James. Decide whether to inform him of our situation. Depending on how that goes is whether I bring him home or not. No matter what happens though, I'm coming home to you."

His grip tightens on Vansha for a moment before he forces himself to loosen up a little. Burying his nose in black curls, he mumbles, "I love you Vanyusha," in Russian.

Jon presses soft kisses to the underside of his jaw, following it up to just below his ear, whispering, "I love you Alec."

"Jon," he groans, "Are you done on the comms?" he demands as the smaller man takes his ear lightly between teeth to tease him.

Letting go, the younger man nuzzles behind his ear again, answering, "Nope. Not quite yet."

Growling in frustration, he spins them towards the door, caging Jon's slender form with his own, claiming his Rowan's lips in a deep kiss.  Long fingers sink into the curls at the nape of his neck as Vansha's arms snake around him.

Groaning, Jon turns his head sideways, breathing shallowly as he decides to kiss and nip along that slender column of pale flesh.

"As enjoyable," the hacker gasps as he sucks a mark into the thin skin above Jon's pulse, "as this is," low moan interrupt his lover's words, "I need to finish with the boys."

Nipping at Vansha's ear, he growls, "If I didn't know better, that statement would make me jealous."

Chuckling softly, his Rowan captures his lips in another deep kiss before murmuring, "Ah, but you do know better, so there is nothing to be jealous of."

Dragging himself away from Jon, his eyes rake over the smaller man hotly. They will definitely finish this after Jon has insured the third member of their triad’s safety.

Smiling warmly, Vansha gives him one last hard kiss, before slipping past him to return to the computer, hand coming up to click the earwig’s microphone back on as he answers whatever questions the other two put to Jon.

Stepping out of the room, he closes the door behind himself and leans against it, eyes closing as he simply breathes.

They probably should actually talk about the plan of how Jon's going to get recruited by MI6. He already knows whatever it is, he's not going to like it. If they never have contact with MI6 and the Double-O program, it would be too soon. Yet, logically he knows it's time to tell James. Well, maybe not tell James, but at least for them to meet, even if nothing more happens than that. His Rowan deserves that chance.

He knows that his love isn't going to betray him, not the way James did. He knows that his hacker will do anything possible to protect him, from anyone, including himself. He knows exactly how determined and stubborn Jon can be, as steadfast as the rowan gracing their sides. He knows how much his safety means to the younger man. He knows all of that, but it doesn't keep him from worrying about what's to come.

The only thing he really can do is trust in Jon's analyses and words, actions have always spoken louder between them. This is just another action, one designed to help him as much as James or Jon, because it is one to bring him closure on the past. Something he has never quite managed.


	111. Plotting

Jon's POV  
There are a few more hours after when Alec agrees to when the train arrives and his second soulmate is discretely watched over on the way to medical assistance. Once James is clear, he bids the pair thanks for their help with the situation before buzzing his best friend.

 _'Whatcha need?'_ Aither answers almost immediately.

 _'Going offline for a little while, please keep an ear on James while I do so.'_ he answers seriously.

 _'Of course, I'll keep my boys on him if you'd like.'_ She replies smoothly, _'Although he's a really good agent, so he might notice them. Hmmmmm. Notta problem.'_

 _'Thanks,'_ he comments, _'Later.'_

 _'Have fun!'_ she tells him right before they hang up at the same time.

Standing, he stretches as he glances at the clock. Seven hours total from start to finish with that lovely little interlude when Alec stopped in to kiss him senseless.

He should definitely go find his Sansha. For one thing, they need to discuss the upcoming situation he's going to be putting himself in. For another, he wants to continue the other discussion they were having. He's sure that his spy will be more than willing to do that.

Shutting everything down, he leaves the room and heads towards the basement, generally if he is working on something involving James, Alec retreats to his love's workshop in order to make something. Sure enough, when he walks down the steps, he finds the older man sitting at his explosives table carefully inventorying what all he has on hand.

"Mind if I interrupt?" he queries with a warm smile.

Alec spins the chair towards him, smirking and arching an pale brow at him, "Depends on why you are."

"Well," he answers as he closes the distance between them, "I was thinking of dinner," his hands come to rest on broad shoulders, "and maybe a good cuddle following."

Smirking, Sansha queries, "Just a cuddle?" as the taller man's hands close over his hips. "Or something a bit more?" and tugs him forward.

Laughing softly, he finds himself on Alec's lap.

"I'm open to suggestions," he replies, nipping at his soulmate's bottom lip.

Alec takes that as an invitation to kiss him long and deep.

"I like that plan," he whispers against his soulmate's lips when they separate to breathe.

"Perfect," Sansha hums back, kissing him again.

He laughs happily when his lover hooks his arms beneath him and lifts, standing as he does so and heading to the stairs.

Three hours later, he stretches in bed, his body pleasantly sore.

Well, he thinks with a glance over at his lazing spy, time to get up and do some plotting. He needs to get himself recruited sometime in the next few months. From what he has seen in the records, the quartermaster and the quartermaster's right hand person are often recruited from outside of the department. Now what would be the best way to go about this?

"You're already plotting," the sardonyx blonde mutters into his pillow, "I can practically hear you thinking."

Chuckling, he leans over to kiss Alec's shoulder. "Yes."

So far he's pretty sure his best idea is to hack the quartermaster, a man named Major Geoffrey Boothroyd, and present him with a few of his more handy ideas. Of course some of those ideas have been used by his and Aither's teams. That's neither here nor there since they don't share their equipment with outsiders. Besides, according to several different hackers and tinkers he converses with, the major has wanted to retire for a while, but has been unable to find a suitable replacement.

Apparently R, a woman named Ally Reilly, is better suited as second and doesn't wish to be the one in charge of the branch. That's handy. He should probably make friends with her as well. Generally the right hand person has more power than they will ever admit. Being the power behind the throne only works if that power doesn't brag.

Well then, the first thing to do is find out everything he can on Ally. Unless she's a computer wiz, that's going to be easy enough.

"Is it considered bad manners to learn everything about a person prior to introducing yourself?" he mumbles against his lover's shoulder.

Laughing, Alec rolls over on his back, tugging him along to sprawl across the taller man's chest. "Some would say it is. Our line of work I think it's prudent."

He nods in agreement, resting his chin on his folded hands on Sansha's chest. "I'm going to befriend R, that way, when I put myself in for the quartermaster spot I have an ally, or at least someone who is not an enemy to work with." Pausing, he thinks about it, "I might see about bringing in some of my own hackers. I have a few that would be good at the work, as does Aither that she'd let me have."

His lover nods in agreement, "Good plan," the spy tells him, "When I realized I was on my own, that MI6 had turned on me, I started cultivating relationships that would be useful. I already had Raskova at that point, had her as an ally since the second year I was in deep cover. The other two came later. Dayesi as an ally I understood, and Bogdan as an ally no one expected." Sansha's lips quirk up in a smile, "I didn't realize quite how good of friends they were until James reentered my life."

He nods again in understanding.

"I am going to start researching her tomorrow," he remarks. "I am also going to see how many ways I can improve their systems."

"Just don't tell her you did it," his love suggests. "Most folks don't take that information well, particularly when delivered as a threat."

Chuckling, he agrees, "That did work out better than I expected back then." Mischievously, he comments, “Seventeen year old me was terrified you'd call my bluff,” his tone turns serious, “but I was determined to keep you from hurting yourself worse.” Once more his tone turns playful, “Besides, da always suggested keeping a straight face no matter the situation, believe in myself and everyone else would believe too.”

Alec's arms tighten around him.

He closes his eyes, snuggling in as his mind continues to spin the scenarios.

A little bit later he stretches again, this time rolling off the bed and grabbing his glasses. Clicking the display on, he murmurs instructions as he walks to the bathroom and checks the stats for the situation. Thankfully his best friend has been updating it as she goes. It appears that all is well with James, or as well as it can be considering he was shot in the shoulder. He's been put on a shit task of discovering what happened to the body and the disk.

That works in his favor, it gives him a chance to get the quartermaster's position without having to meet his second soulmate. He's meeting James on his terms, not anyone else's.

When he's done in the bathroom he returns to the bedroom to dress, picking comfortable clothing for around the house. He smiles ruefully, remembering how long it took him to get comfortable with his own skin and walking around with nothing on in their bathroom and bedroom after spending so long keeping himself covered as much as possible.

Alec's already gone, probably to find them some food. For whatever reason his soulmate seems to think he needs to eat far more than he does.

Heading downstairs, he discovers he's right when he finds the spy making up a small plate of snack food. Years of living in Russia mean they often keep the sorts of snacks around that are commonly offered to guests there.

"Food?" he asks with a chuckle.

"Yes," his soulmate replies, "You skip meals when you get plotting and hacking, so I am feeding you now."

He can't argue with that logic, because he knows it's very true.


	112. Making Friends

Jon's POV  
A week after they agreed he would join MI6, he intentionally runs into Ally, politely excusing himself before continuing on his way. Not that he gets too far, three steps later she remarks, "That was intentional, either you're new at your job or you have another purpose in mind."

Pivoting to face her, he smiles, responding, "Definitely not new at my job, not even the odd parts, but I like to confirm who I am meeting is who I think it is."

"Interesting pick pocket," she comments curiously, "I assume you have a reason for this?"

"Care for a cup of tea? There are at least three decent tea shops within walking distance of here," he answers.

Making friends has never been one of his strong skills, he lacks the interpersonal skills to pull it off most the time. He also varies between far too blunt and far too vague depending on mood, situation, and who he's dealing with for most people's tastes.

She studies him for a moment, nodding slowly, "That's acceptable. Come on."

Nodding, he joins her, following her to the tea shop down the street. It was second on her list of favorite places in the area to visit.

"So, who are you?" she asks after they have their drinks and are seated in a corner with clear line of sight to all of the doors and windows.

"My name's Jon," he answers. "As you've already assumed this meeting was intentional." Tipping his head to the side he studies her, deciding to say, "I was advised not to tell you I looked you up, but," he shrugs indifferently, "you already gathered I did. Now the question becomes how much do I know?"

He watches the way her hand twitches and smiles pleasantly as he continues, keeping his voice soft to carry no further than his companion, "I know about both listening devices, they won't work. I know about the tracker, it's registering normal stats for you right now. I know what you do for a living."

"How did you find that out?" she asks quietly, voice firm and eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Online I go by Q10," he replies calmly, knowing if she is any good at her job she knows it.

Her eyes widen in shock, sweeping over him in disbelief. "You've interfered with missions before, every time you do so, the agent you assist lives and makes it out even when we didn't think they would. Why would you be here now?"

He smiles in response, "I'm considering applying for the quartermaster position, I decided to meet the person I'd be working with most first to see how well we'd get along."

Of course, their conversation is not going at all how he originally planned, but that's alright, it was one of the possible plans, though towards the bottom of his choices lists. He still planned for it however, just because he had a feeling she isn't as slow as some of the people he's dealt with he came prepared.

"You realize that type of work requires not talking about it?" she asks sarcastically, arching an eyebrow at him.

Smirking, he answers, "I probably know more than you'd really appreciate about 'that type of work'."

Fourteen years being a hacker. Twelve years living with a spy. Eleven years helping said spy run his network from the computer aspects. Eleven years helping his second soulmate, also a spy, out of tight spots. He definitely knows the work, and knows it far better than expected. That doesn't count any of the things his dad taught him growing up, which is a big category too.

Her expression turns speculative as she studies him. "Then why are you being so blunt?"

"It seemed like the correct approach upon meeting you," he answers with a lazy shrug.

"I'm Ally," she eventually states, "Nice to meet you."

They spend the next two hours drinking tea and talking. They get to know each other, or more exact, he let's her get to know him since he already knows a lot about her. Probably more than she'd appreciate. He sort of took Alec's advice and didn't tell her that. Through the entire meeting his best friend comments, most of them sassy and sarcastic.

"I think I like you," she eventually declares.

He smiles, nodding his head slightly,  "Thanks."

They go their separate ways, and he clicks the earwig on.

 _‘You're insane_ ,’ his best friend tells him.

He chuckles, heading to the tube. "No more than you," he retorts.

' _What's next in the plan?'_ his fellow hacker queries.

"Introduce myself to the quartermaster, with reasons to hire me to take his place," he replies, getting on the tube. "First though, I need to lose my shadow."

' _Do you need help?'_ his love demands, the first thing Alec has said since he left the house.

"I'll be fine, Sansha," he reassures his soulmate. "It's time for the first lesson for them."

On the train, he vanishes into the crowd, subtly changing his posture and making sure to flip which shirt he has on the top. Reaching up, he carefully pressed the tiny button that makes his frames go translucent, he also turns on the mini screen on his left lense on. Best to know who he's dealing with. Carefully looking over, he scans the crowd and let's the mass recognized program give him all the data. Most of it he ignores until the spies come up. Those he pays attention to, particularly the parts about their skills.

By the time the tube stops, he already has a plan of action. The one is moderately new, doesn't have a lot of field experience. The other has years of experienced but doesn't work well with others. Perfect.

He actually stays on through the stop, but moves so he is in a different car, keeping an eye out on them. The next stop he gets off even though it's not the one he needs, instead he gets on a different one and takes the long way home.


	113. Meeting Called

M's POV  
Her eyes narrow as the five people file into her office. Major Boothroyd is the first one in, followed by his second Ally Reilly, then the two agents, Jack Giddings and Declan Connor, and bringing up the rear is her second, Bill Tanner. Tanner takes his place beside her desk, Q and R both take chairs, pulling them off to the side to leave the two agents standing in front of her desk.

Jack Giddings, a man who was once up for promotion into the Double-O program but ruined it when he wrecked eight months work in under an hour because he refused to work with 002, is to the left and trying for that same lazy arrogance 007 is known for. It's failing.

Declan Connor, a potential in need of mentoring and maybe a little guidance is to the right, standing at parade rest, reminding her why she prefers ex-soldiers or soldier trained agents for these sort of briefs.

"Report," she orders curtly, watching both with narrow eyes.

"Ma'am, we were following the target, he got on the tube and we lost him," Declan answers quickly.

"Do you have anything to add?" she demands, looking at Giddings.

"No ma'am," he replies, looking disinterested.

"I would suggest you correct your attitude Giddings, before I decide you need retraining and send you with the cadets." She snaps.

He straightens but it's not hard to tell he does not like it.

She knows exactly what Giddings problem is, under the old M, the one she replaced fifteen years ago, he had been slotted to take over the title 006. However, after the reviews she put each of the Double-O's through, she had demoted him, and he has not been able to make it back up. He blames her for his career being stalled, when it is really his own fault for attitude, lack of effort, and piss-poor physicals. While he is not out of shape, he is not in the sort of shape needed for the promotion.

Perhaps she will promote him and send him on a suicide mission to sink or swim, she thinks as she studies the two men.

"Dismissed Giddings, report to the medical for recertification, then report to Q for any training he feels you need to redo." She orders, turning her attention to Conner and not caring he feels insulted by that.

Giddings nearly sulks away, leaving without another word and glaring for all he's worth.

She watches as Connor straightens his back as much as possible, squaring his shoulders and waits quietly. "Describe him."

He blinks, tipping his head slightly to the side thoughtfully before he begins speaking, "He is my shoulder height. Slightly curly hair, either black or dark brown. Hazel eyes, couldn't tell if the base color is green, gray, or brown. Slender build, possibly athletic. He vanished in the crowd. I suggested we move closer, Giddings, as the senior agent, disagreed." The young agent pauses, hesitantly finishing with, "I think he's trained as an agent or an asset."

Lifting her head slightly, she stares down her nose at him as she considers his report. "Very well, you are dismissed," she eventually tells him.

"Ma'am," Connor replies, snapping to attention before nodding to Q and leaving.

Turning her attention to R, she asks, "Reilly, report."

"Yes ma'am," Q's assistant responds. "I agree with Connor's assessment. Jon, as he introduced himself, is definitely trained. The type of training he has I am unsure of." The younger woman takes a deep breath, almost nervously, which is unusual for Ally. "He knew information that he shouldn't have known. Things that our specialists should have been able to keep private. More than that, he identified himself as the hacker who has taken over missions before, primarily for Bond."

She freezes, considering the implications of that statement. Over the last eleven years there have been thirty-three missions she has expected to fail or for Bond to die in the process. Each time a person, sometimes male, sometimes female, has cut communications between the branch and 007, running the mission no matter how long and managing to get the agent out of whatever disaster he was in. "Are you sure?"

"Yes ma'am, some of what he knows can only be accessed by the highest levels of security in Q-Branch." R answers seriously.

"Very well then," she states thoughtfully, musing. "What is it he wants?"

"According to Jon," Ally begins slowly, "he plans to apply for the position of quartermaster and decided to meet me first to see if we can work together."

Startled, she nearly demands, "Are you sure?"

"Yes ma'am," R nods seriously.

"Q, what do we have on this Jon?" She asks, turning her attention to the man in charge of the Q-branch.

"Not much," the old man responds, "I think Ally and Connor got the most info on him we've ever had. I can't even tell you whether Jon is his real name or not."

"Tanner?" she queries, knowing her second will understand.

"Q10 appeared online fifteen years ago, he was brilliant then, making leaps in the programming that others couldn't even imagine. We knew he was in London when he started, but that's it. Often competes against an American hacker who goes by Katar." Her second answers immediately, before offering, "I can look in the file to see if there is anything else?"

She takes a few minutes to think about it before giving a single sharp shake of her head, "No. If he's coming to us, we will find out when he does so. He's young from what I am gathering, probably not even thirty yet, he'll slip up and we will collect the information then." Turning back to Q she inquires, "Will he be an acceptable replacement?"

"From everything I know of him? Yes. However I haven't met him yet and aren't making a choice until I do." Q replies firmly.

"Acceptable," she hums, "Gather whatever information you think you can." The other three nod, so she begins the next subject. "I am thinking of sending Giddings on a sink or swim mission, do we have any available currently?"

"There is that mission in Brazil right now," Tanner answers.

"Send him to help Bond," Q suggests coolly. "007 will either kill him or make him."

"There's that situation in China," Ally offers.

"Very well, I will review the files and tell you what is needed to equip him," she tells them, "dismissed."

Again, the other three nod. Q and R leave, quietly discussing R's conversation with this Jon, Q10.

"We've wanted him for years and now he's handing himself over? It's odd," her second comments.

"That bothers me as well." She agrees, "It's not a common practice. Especially not for someone with training. We all agree he must have had some training but there is not a single rogue agent who matches that description."

Tanner nods, staring off in the distance as if thinking about something in particular. He's been her second long enough for her to know that expression means he has an idea.

"What if we pull a feeler out online, a reward for information, perhaps we could find him that way before he finds us?" he suggests slowly.

"I don't think it would work." She answers, "If he can cut into our lines, which is supposed to be some of the most secure in the world, I think he can make sure it never posts or is removed."

"Good point," he hums, "Well, we can always wait to see how long it is before he shows up?"

"That will have to do," she comments, "So far he's not a threat, but that may change in the future. If he comes here, we will know faster and be able to react quicker if he does become one. Very well, let the major know that he may respond to the request to meet."

"Yes ma'am," Tanner agrees.

Turning her attention to her computer, she pulls up the files about the three missions, not worried about her second's reaction. He's rather used to the way she quickly changes gears. They will need to gather more information on this hacker, but first, time to take care of that wanna  be double-o. That's something she can immediately do, so that's going to be her focus for now.


	114. New Job

Jon's POV  
He gives the executives and agents of MI6 a week before messaging Q again. They end up spending three days going back and forth discussing his qualifications and the job before the Q suggests they meet for tea to continue the conversation in private. He's quite sure there will be at least two agents there, though he is expecting there to actually be more of them. Not that it matters, Alec has already decided to make arrangements for his protection and so the scene is covered. He'd be exasperated if not for the fact he understands exactly why.

Of course right before they are to meet, he gets a message changing the location of the meeting.

Snickering, he replies -that's alright.-

Not that his soulmate agrees, Alec gets very annoyed by that and he ends up being two minutes late because he soothed his love's ruffled feathers before leaving the house.

When he walks in the door, he spots Malcolm almost immediately, and Falco not long after though he doesn't acknowledge either of them since they are his protection. He doesn't actually think he needs protection, but tell that to his over protective soulmate and best friend who teamed up against him.

He spots the major a moment later, the older man is sitting at a table with great line of sight to every exit in the room. As he crosses over to the table, he spots two of the agents, first being Declan over by the register, the second being a man named Thomas near the door.

' _There is a sniper across the street, though Alec has him in line of sight,'_ Aither comments, _'I think your soulmate wants to pull the trigger early just to.'_

' _I wouldn't risk Jon like that,'_ his Sansha snaps.

His lips twitch in a smile, but he doesn't actually respond to the pair, "Hello sir," he greets the quartermaster.

Standing slowly, the older man motions to the seat across from him, replying, "Good afternoon, Jon."

Taking a seat at the same time as the older man, he comments, "I know there's three of them here." He queries politely, "How are you today?"

Chuckling, the major answers, "It's been a good morning. Yourself?"

He shrugs, responding, "It's been a good day so far."

They spend a few minutes discussing random polite topics before they change their focus to the actual reason they are meeting.

"Why now?" Q asks curiously.

Tilting his head slightly, he answers, "I'm bored, I've been directing some of the missions unofficially for years, and enjoy designing useful items."

The major nods slowly, a thoughtful look on his face. "Have you worked for a different agency?"

Trying not to smirk, because he had expected that question, he answers, "I freelanced. Working for different groups depending on the situation and needs.”

The quartermaster studies him, it's a look he has seen in the eyes of most ex-soldiers he's been around. Assessing exactly how dangerous he is. Most never realize the extent of his talents, and he likes it that way. If they don't know, they'll underestimate him, and that is always a preferred.

"From the blueprints you've sent me I think you will be an excellent addition to our team. There will be three month trial period. At the end of the three months, if there are minimal problems, I will retire and you will become the new quartermaster." The major tells him, watching his reactions closely.

He expected that actually, he also expects they are going to want to know the information he keeps to himself, not that he's going to comply and share.

"I can agree with that," he states with a nod. "My address and home is staying off file. As is my medical records since I already have a private doctor who is more than talented enough for my care."

Almost delicately, Q asks, "Do you have a soulmate triad?"

Tipping his head, he smiles slowly, "Of course, I have known them for years and they are part of my home life which you don't need to know about."

 _'Ballsy Jon, I'm surprised at you_ ,' his best friend comments.

' _He told me he was doing that. Better get it on file the he lives with someone than not, but this way MI6 knows I'm off limits according to Jon and their contract_.' His love comments, it was one of the reasons they had taken so long deciding whether he would be the next Q or not.  

"How will you protect them if you will not let us know about them?" The major asks, tone a combination of exasperated and understanding.

' _You're not supposed to look like a predator Ivan,_ ' Falco remarks quietly, hiding it behind taking a drink of his coffee.

His features smooth out as he brings the mask he uses for dealing with contacts of the Janus Syndicate. His voice is soft and sure as he states, "We have protected ourselves for years, we will continue to do so. If there is a situation, I can guarantee I have plenty of ways of solving it and know plenty of assets that can be of assistance if it's needed."

The major's eyes widen slightly, and it's almost as if the older man recoils. "I see." Leaning forward seriously, Q asks again, "What is in it for you?"

Smiling charmingly, he answers, "Something new and hopefully not boring."

The older man nods slowly. "I understand, as long as you can insure that they are not a threat they will be left alone."

His eyes narrow as he very clearly states, "As long as I am not betrayed, they will not seek retaliation or vengeance."

"Good. Report in tomorrow at eight am, I am sure you know where." The older man tells him, "Now then, let's finish our drinks and just visit for a few shall we?"

They spend nearly an hour visiting with each other, discussing the latest in gadgets on the market and what they would do to make them better. When they are done visiting, they bid each other good day and he takes off. He knows the two agents are following him even before his best friend comments on their presence. Again he heads to the tube, losing the agents in the crowd, this time by joining a group of street kids.

When he gets off at the next stop, he finds Alec waiting for him, leaning against the car.

"That went about how I expected," he comments. "How are you love?"

Alec nuzzles his temple softly, pressing a kiss to it before answering, "I don't like the fact they picked somewhere I wasn't expecting."

"Apparently M picked it, Q didn't want to come here," he tells his soulmate.

His soulmate scowls but nods.

"Everything's alright, but let's get going so I can erase us from the cameras," he suggests.

 _'I'm already doing that Jon.'_ Aither cuts in, ' _They don't need to know where you got off or who you're with.'_

"Fine," his love answers, "I wanted to see how it went."

He nods in understanding, "Okay, well, let's go get something to eat."

It's Alec's turn to nod. "I have an idea."

Smiling, he nearly purrs, "Perfect." Turning his attention to his best friend, he comments, "Turning the earwigs off. I have them set to turn back on if my heartbeat spikes dangerously."

' _Have fun!'_ she tells him mischievously, ‘ _Don't do anything I wouldn't do_!'

Chuckling, he clicks it off as they climb in the car.

They'll have an enjoyable night, and if he's reading his soulmate right, he's having a _very_ fun evening.

In the morning, he's up before Alec and just spends a few minutes watching his love sleep. It's always nice to see Sansha resting when he knows exactly how much his love doesn't like feeling vulnerable. When the older man starts to stir, he kisses his love's nose, murmuring, "Good morning, Sansha."

"It's too early for you to be so awake," the one time spy mutters, eyes still closed. Stretching, his love rolls towards him, eyes opening to slits, "Morning, Vansha. You have to get up soon?"

Glancing at the clock, he answers, "About fifteen minutes."

Pushing him backwards so the older man can lean over him, his love murmurs, "I know how to fill that time."

Laughing happily, he agrees, "That sounds like a good plan."

Somehow he manages to get up, cleaned up, and to the building just before he is due there.

Walking from the nearest tube station to Vauxhall, he is halfway there when Declan sort of appears just a little behind him. He stops pivoting partly to comment, "You're improving, or so it seems."

The young agent freezes, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"I'm Jon," he offers, smiling reassuringly at the agent, "Guessing you're my escort to see Q and M?"

Slowly Declan nods, "Yes."

"Well come on, let's pretend I don't have a clue," he suggests merrily.

It's almost like that wakes the agent up, because flashing a quick smile, he motions towards the building and they start walking once more.

"Are you an agent for someone else?" Declan inquires as they pass through security.

"Nope, my da just happened to be," he pauses, trying to decide on the right word, "unique." Smiling warmly he continues, "My soulmate and best friend are both agents, though from differing countries, which makes for interesting times."

"Don't they have conflicts of interest?" The young agent asks curiously as they get on the lift.

Shaking his head slightly, he answers, "Not so far, and we've all known each other for years."

As they walk past Eve Moneypenny's desk, he tells Declan, "You've got promise, I'll see who you could work with for some lessons."

The young agent almost seems lost for words as they stop just before the door.

Mischievously, he remarks, "I'd introduced you to my best friend, but you probably wouldn't make it through it."

Turning towards the door, he's unsurprised when Tanner opens it.

"Hello Tanner," he greets the older man as he walks past him into the office. His eyes sweep the room, taking note of the lack of visible cameras, so they must all be hidden ones, now where are they? He notices the one on the front of the desk as he settles into a chair across from the older woman who controls MI6. "Hello M," he greets her, deciding not to use her real name. He'll save that information for a later date.

"Jon Markov," she replies with a serious nod.

"So, did you enjoy listening to the interview yesterday?" His smile turns mischievous once more as he comments, "I'm certain some of the questions were yours."

Her eyes narrow, the only sign of emotion that crosses her face.

He states, "I'm well aware that the major has no problems hearing, at least not ones that require wearing a hearing aid."

"You are a bit of a mystery. I don't like mysteries." She informs him.

Making sure not to smirk, he responds, "That's dad's teachings, I'm sure.”

"I have agreed to your terms," she tells him. "I don't like them, but I have been reassured that you are known for keeping your word."

"That's mum," he replies, "she always said if you make a promise keep it no matter how hard." He makes sure to keep his features blank as he says it. Even though it's been more than a decade since he lost his parent’s triad, it still hurts.

"Are your soulmates a threat to our security?" She asks bluntly.

"Nope," he answers, popping his 'p'. It's probably good he has the earwig off right now. Alec or Aither would be making some sarcastic comment.

"Are you certain?" She demands.

"The only way they will be a threat is if you betray me." He responds firmly.

She just nods, motioning to her second, "Tanner will show you to the branch."

Smiling at her, he says, "Thank you." Turning to the older man he remarks, "After you."

He follows the older man out of the office and to the lift. As they are riding it downwards, Tanner tells him about some of the important things on the different floors. When they reach the branch, the older man escorts him to Q's office.

"Q, R, here's Jon." Tanner remarks, nodding at the major and his second before leaving.

"Morning," he greets them. "What should we begin with?"

If Q and R's expressions are anything to go by, it's going to be an interesting trial period.


	115. Bloody Big Ship

James' POV  
For the last six months he has been on assignment in the middle of nowhere. He's pretty sure it's supposed to be punishment for getting drugged and losing the flash drive. At this point he doesn't care as much as he should.

He can still hear M's voice telling Moneypenny to take the shot just before the line went quiet and a second voice, his unknown handler who would run missions for him when MI6 was unable to keep up, had cut in.

Shaking his head, he pulls himself out of his thoughts in order to check the location around the dead drop, making sure that he isn't being observed before actually collecting it. It's a summons back to London. His mission, piddly little bullshit mission that it is, is over.

His return to London takes longer than he'd appreciate because most of his accounts have been frozen, so that's how the old biddy is really punishing him. Hopefully after this mission that will change.

When he gets back he is put through a physical and emotional evaluation before he's told to meet the new quartermaster at a museum to collect his new documents and supplies. Why they are meeting there instead of in Q-Branch he doesn't know, but he accepts it easily enough. It's not the first time he has gotten supplies from the branch without stepping into it.

Making his way to the painting he is supposed to meet the new quartermaster in front of, he takes a seat, glancing at the watch on his wrist before settling with his hands on his knees and staring at the painting. Hopefully this doesn't take too long, this is rather boring.

He's startled when a teenager slides into the spot next to him. Dark hair mused, the curls and waves not tamed despite the best effort. Intelligent hazel-green eyes are framed by thin black glasses. Light skin made lighter by the black suit beneath a heavy coat.

"It always makes me feel a little melancholy," the teen comments, voice soft and achingly familiar.

This isn't a teenager. He knows that voice and there is no way that his companion is as young as he seems. That voice has been guiding him through missions on and off for the last ten years. The only way the man next to him could actually be a teen is if the younger man started as a child. While he's sure MI6 doesn't have as good of abilities as they could but no way did a child break in.

"A grand old warship being ignominiously hauled away for scrap," the younger man continues, that familiar tone touching something inside of him that has been dormant for years. Sighing, the new quartermaster, and he's sure this is the new quartermaster despite the youth of his companion, queries, "The inevitability of time, don't you think?"

He keeps his eyes forward, not looking directly at Q yet. For years he has wanted to meet the man who had gotten him out of so many situations that the Q-Branch couldn't. Never had he expected the meeting to go quite like this. Actually, at this point he hadn't expected it at all. For all the flirting and teasing they did on the line, there was never anything more. The image he had built in his head is nothing like the truth of the matter.

He only has one real question: why had Q helped him all these years?

"What do you think?" the new quartermaster asks, turning back to the painting, fidgeting slightly but it doesn't seem to be from nervousness.

He closes his eyes as he answers, "A bloody big ship." As he opens his eyes, he decides to test his companion, glancing at his watch as if waiting for someone before standing once more and murmuring, "Excuse me."

"Double-oh-seven," Q states quietly but clearly, authority he is well used to hearing in the younger man's tone, freezing him in place. "I am your new quartermaster."

Settling back into position, hands back on his knees, he mutters, "You must be joking," he watches the dark-haired man from the corner of his eye.

Sarcasm drips from Q's voice as he retorts, "Why, because I am not wearing a lab coat?"

The hints of a smile play at the edge of his lips as he tilts his head and he glances over, "Because you still have spots."

"My complexion is hardly relevant," that teasing voice replies haughtily, amusement lacing that familiar tone.

"Well," he bites back his smirk, because he knows exactly how competent the new Q is, "your competence is."

"Age is no guarantee of efficiency," retorts Q sardonically, tiny smirk clear.

Just like when they are on the comms, he enjoys the banter. This is better than he ever would have expected. The voice in his ear is good looking, smart, sassy, and easily able to keep up. Maybe after this mission they can go to dinner, talk, something. He wants to know why Q has been helping him all these years. What the younger man's motivation is.

Leaning towards the boffin, he sassily remarks, "And youth is no guarantee of innovation."

A real smile curves Q's lips, making him wonder what it is like to kiss that warm face as the hazel-green eyes seem to glimmer green for a moment, reminding him of another set of eyes he hasn't seen in years. "I hazard I can do more damage on my laptop sitting in my pajamas before my first cup of Earl Grey than you can do in a year in the field."

"Oh," he drawls sarcastically, "so why do you need me?"

"Every now and then a trigger has to be pulled," the dark-haired boffin replies with ease.

Considering how well Q runs his missions, he bets the younger man has worked for other agencies or freelanced in the past, so he probably knows those who can pull the trigger besides him.

"Or not pulled," he retorts calmly, turning to face dark-haired man completely as he jokes, "Hard to know in your pajamas." He offers his hand as he states warmly, "Q."

Hazel-green eyes flicker between his hand and face before long fingers curl around his, "Double-oh-seven."

He's definitely looking forward to officially working with the voice he has been listening to for years. Now he just has to get through this mission so he can get to know Q better.


	116. Unexpected Meeting & Death

James’s POV  
Why was he still tied up and sitting in the chair? Oh yes, information gathering.

How many times over the years has he done this exact situation or something so similar? It’s really beginning to get boring. Couldn’t some of these criminals and traitors be just a little more original? Is that asking too much? How many more times would he keep doing this when the passion for it is gone? Why is he even doing this? His mind whirls as he watches an elevator on the far side of the room slowly come down, finally the person he is waiting to speak with is here. Get the show on the road so he can get out of here and return home. Maybe he will flirt with the new Q in person now that he can when he gets back.

“Hello James,” Silva states as he steps out of the elevator, spreading his hands for just a moment before folding them together in front of him, “Welcome.”

Great, another turncoat with the flare for the dramatics. The humor he once found in that situation is long gone, lost in betrayal of his soulmate twelve years prior. But he refuses to think about that right now. He has a job to do.

For a moment the one-time spy stands there, asking, “Do you like the island?” and sounds sincere.

Not really, he thinks, not bothering to try answering.

When he doesn’t immediately answer, Silva huffs in amusement it seems, dipping his head as he starts walking forward and droning on. He listens only enough to get a gist that the words are unimportant, at least at this point. He’s sure that the analogy about the rats is a reference to their work as spies.

As Silva states, “The two survivors, this is what she made us,” three thumps behind him draw the spy’s attention away from him. A moment later a bullet hole appears in the middle of the traitor’s chest, and the ex-spy falls backwards, a look of shock on Silva’s face as blood bubbles from his lips.

What the hell is going on? He wonders, trying to decide whether he should slip these ropes or not.

“You couldn’t have done that one minute sooner or three minutes later? Really?” a familiar voice inquires.

It takes him a minute to realize the words were said in Scottish Gaelic. It’s been years since he has heard anyone use it, mostly because he never goes back to the family home.

Quiet, barely there steps approach, stepping beside him before passing him to grab a chair.

He stares in shock at his new Quartermaster carefully lifting the chair and stepping around Silva’s body without touching the blood pooling beneath it.

“Now, I had not originally planned on our chat going quite like this.” Q comments as he settles the chair in front of him, “But I have no issues taking advantage of an opportunity when it presents itself.”

What in the hell is going on here? For one thing, how did Q get here? For another, why is Q here?

“We need to have a small chat, and depending on how that small chat goes is how your day is going to go.” The younger man tells him with a serious expression. Glancing about, the Quartermaster his head sadly, “What a poor set up. Please, this is nothing but a decoy and plot device.”

He is considering saying something when sharp gray eyes narrow in on him, Q’s voice is almost conversational as he speaks, “Now then, if I was to say Arkhangelsk, and ask what your mission, as you were told was, what would you say?”

“Who the hell are you?” he hisses, that is one mission that is rarely mentioned to him by anyone. Everyone in their office knows that bringing it up is a sure fire way to infuriate him in a very fast moment.

“Your Quartermaster, however my name is Jon, if you’d rather use that.” The younger man answers calmly. “I would suggest not trying to undo those bonds right now James, my soulmate is itching to put a bullet in you, and probably will do so with the slightest provocation.”

“Who’s your soulmate?” he asks, perhaps they can make this an information exchange of the type he used to have to do.

Smirking, Jon answers, “Nice try, now back to my question, because I have been over the records, _all_ of the records, and I can say that something doesn’t add up.”

Quiet reigns between them as they have a staring match, one that he is quite sure he is losing actually. Those gray amber eyes know far too much for someone who doesn’t seem to be that old. But then, they didn’t seem that old back then either.

Finally he answers, explaining how he was called in for the mission, how he had lost his partner and best friend. At first he thought that his partner was dead, only later he discovered his partner had betrayed him, became the enemy. Once he started, he found he couldn’t stop, though he could not understand the compulsion to talk. Had he been drugged and just hadn’t realized it? No, the effects would have been in play when Silva was still alive. This is different, the same compulsion he’s felt when speaking with the ‘Kind One’ over the years.

When he finally does stop, he closes his eyes and simply waits.

“Blue storm,” Jon states clearly.

His eyes snap open in shock, lightning flashing through his body as he meets the hacker’s eyes, realizing that Jon’s watching him with narrow eyes.

No. Not possible. There is no way in hell this boy should know that. Only one other person knew that phrase and that person is dead. He killed him twelve years ago. It’s impossible.

“Breath James,” a gentle voice instructs him, calloused fingers ghosting over his jaw, drawing his attention to the fact his chest is heaving from a lack of oxygen and the world has gone blurry.

“How?” he rasps, not fighting the bonds holding him in place or even able to move if he wanted to. He’s paralyzed by the implication of that statement. It’s impossible, yet for the first time in twelve years there is hope. He doesn’t know why, or how, or even if it’s real. This could all be a ploy but it’s a damned good one, and one he’s not going to fight. Could his soulmate, his Alec, still be alive? Could he have been wrong during the GoldenEye disaster?

Alec. . .

Why? How? Is it even possible?

“Breath James,” Jon reminds him again, hands still ghosting over his skin, providing a connection, something to focus on.

“Not possible,” he mutters, shaking his head in denial, “He never. . .” his voice trails off. His mind replays those events the way he has a million times before, always trying to find the why. Alec hadn’t said that, not once, because if he had, if Alec had used their failsafe he would have done everything in his power to find out what was going on.

The next time he is aware of himself they are in a helicopter and the quartermaster is speaking with someone though he doesn’t hear a second voice so it must be an earwig. He’s strapped down, not the prisoner sort of straps, but the medical emergency type. Closing his eyes, he allows himself to fall back into his mind.

Blue storm or jade light, the codes that meant one of them was undercover, deep cover, that they had established in case one was sent into a mission without the other being told. They hadn’t advertised the fact they were soulmates from the same triad. He’s sure that it’s on file somewhere.

Alec never said, not once was there any indication that his soulmate wasn’t a traitor. True, he had been bothered by the ‘back story’ he had been told for Janus, particularly after he met Janus and discovered it was Alec. Yet he had never been able to force himself to look into it further. It was bad enough his soulmate was a traitor. That he killed one of the two people in this world who were truly his and not just a temporary amusement.

Truthfully, he’s happy he never found his second soulmate, the last member of the triad. He’s never wanted to explain how he killed one of them because the second member was a traitor.

Was he really though?

There is only one way that Jon could know that phrase and that’s impossible.

Is it though? A voice whispers in the back of his head. How many times has he survived injuries that should have been fatal? Hell, as early as six months ago he survived being shot, strangled, and nearly thrown off of a moving train. What’s to say Alec didn’t survive the fall? The explosion, he thinks, that’s what would have killed him.

He can still hear the sickening crunch of his soulmate’s bones as he landed on that satellite.

There is no way Alec lived.

Yet. . .

He’s barely aware of a soft prick to the side of his neck and he knows nothing else.


	117. Leaving the Island

Jon’s POV  
While James is in the middle of having a panic attack, Raskova slips behind the agent, pressing a needle quickly to the side of his neck and knocking him out.

‘ _Jon, the delay for the tracker on Bond just kicked off._ ’ His long time friend comments.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, speaking a bit louder he remarks, “Time to go, let’s get him loaded up.”

‘ _Little Boss, Boss is having a bit of a meltdown.’_ Bogdan states, concern filling his voice.

“Stay with him, I will be there shortly,” he replies seriously. His instincts say he needs to get the vulnerable James to the safety of their transportation out of here. He also feel the urge to get to Alec. Now.

“Go, send Bogdan to assist me.” Raskova urges, making a shooing motion.

“Thank you,” he replies, turning and bolting to where he knows the others planned on nesting.

In less time than one would expect, he had made it to his destination, finding Alec in shock. The sniper rifle has been broken down and Bogdan is hovering nervously, concern written on the tall man’s face.

“Go help Lilya,” he orders, his voice broking no room for argument.

“Yes, Little Boss,” the older man answer turning to do as told.

His motions are measured as he slowly closes the distance between himself and his Alec. Each motion is exaggerated so not to startle the once agent. His hands softly cup Alec’s jaw, thumbs lightly caressing. He’s standing close enough that his soulmate can probably feel the warmth of his body.

“Alec-love,” he murmurs in Scottish Gaelic, having realized years before that it is the best way to draw his soulmate’s attention when emotions get to be almost too much. “Focus on me,” he continues gently, thumbs still moving in small circles.

Green-blue eyes focus in on his face, blinking rapidly as the older man drags a deep gasping breath in.

Smiling affectionately, he murmurs, “There you are. Come Sansha, you can stare in space once we are on the transport out, I don’t want to be here when MI6 arrives.”

Slowly, Alec nods, agreeing and turning woodenly from where he was facing.

He keeps his touch light as his hands slide down Alec’s jaw and throat, skimming over the combat suit and down to his soulmate’s hands. Squeezing them gently, he turns so he is facing the door and guides his love from the sniper’s nest.

Bogdan has already cleaned everything up, taking all the supplies so all he has to worry about is getting Alec to their ride out of here. The trip goes faster than expected thankfully. Once he has Alec moving, years of training kick in and the two of them quickly make their way.

‘ _You have two minutes before they will be in line of sight,’_ Aither announces over the coms, ‘ _I will keep them unaware for as long as I can. I have some information for us to discuss when you return and have settled your boys._ ’

“Okay, thank you,” he replies as he gets Alec situated in the seat. Thankfully his soulmate trusts him enough to let him guide each of the agents motions.

Alec’s eyes have settled on James strapped to the medical transport stretcher. His love is breathing shallowly, almost as if it hurts to take each breath.

“Little Boss, what can I do to help?” Bogdan inquires, closing the sliding door and motioning to Dayesi to take off.

“He just needs time and support, there will be times they need to be kept apart, and times where they will have to be allowed together.” He answers softly, voice taking on a hard edge as he continues to speak. “Both were betrayed, and made to think they betrayed each other, and it has nearly destroyed them.” He nearly hisses, “Whoever did it is not going to appreciate meeting me.”

‘ _That’s what the information I have is on. Take your pet off the line,”_ his long time friend comments.

“Okay,” he responds, reaching up to carefully remove the earwig and press as soft kiss to Alec’s cheek, nose brushing gently his soulmate’s skin. “Out.”

“ _It was a hacker setting them up, actually, setting Bond up. The isolation campaign. Do the names Franz Oberhauser or Ernst Starvo Blofeld mean anything to you?_ ’ Aither inquiries, he can hear her tapping at her keyboard with the same sort of speed he uses.

“Franz Oberhauser yes, the other no,” he replies quietly, taking Alec’s hand in his and stroking the back of it softly.

‘ _Well,_ ’ she begins, “ _they are the same person. Bond’s step-brother or adopted-brother depending on how you look at it. Their shared parent was Hannes Oberhauser, part of Bond’s parent’s triad. Hannes had belonged to another triad before Bond’s birth but when the other two members of it died, one of illness, one of suicide, he had joined the Bond primer pair so Franz would have a full set of parents. After Bond’s parents died, Hannes took both boys and didn’t  find a new triad.’_ She pauses briefly, _‘Motivation wise all I can find is jealousy. Lots and lots of jealousy. Franz is like me, no soulmarks, however he apparently is jealous of Bond’s marks, the attention Bond received from their shared father, and how quickly Bond rose within the ranks of the navy and as a double-o. As far as I can tell they were never close to each other.’_

‘ _Can you find the location?_ ’ Dayesi demands, keeping her voice pitched so it can only be heard over the com rather than in the helicopter.

‘ _I am working on hacking his system, he has no less than twenty hackers working for him. They are not as good as us, but it is time consuming making sure I leave no trail as I hunt through his files.’_ His best friend replies fiercely, ‘ _I don’t take people harming my friends and family well, and his actions have caused harm to both.’_

“As soon as we are at the house I will get my laptop setup and join you,” he hisses, fury filling him. He has a name, and Aither has a link, Franz is not going to like the results of that. He meets Bogdan’s eyes, sharing a look of understanding and agreement.

‘ _You focus on Alec, I will focus on Franz. Quin and Malcolm have already offered assistance when they get off work.’_ Aither tells him, _‘You’re ours Jon, you know we stick together._ ’ Chuckling softly, she remarks, ‘ _I can always call on some of the network if needed. Actually, I might do that just to harass the hackers he has working for him. Multifaceted attacks are useful.’_

“Good idea, I will put the hackers in MI6 to work harassing them too. No reason they can’t be useful.” He agrees with a smirk, the way Lilya flinches tells him it’s not a nice smirk. “We will continue this conversation after further information gathering.”

‘ _Agreed._ ’ Aither states before her part of the line goes quiet.

“Are you sure you wish to go after him?” Bogdan inquires, tipping his head slightly and watching with a serious expression.

His eyes are hard as he replies, “When I first helped Valentin put Sansha back together I promised the guilty party would pay. It might have been twelve years ago, but that’s not going to stop me from fulfilling that promise.”

‘ _Excellent. You will keep us in the loop so we may assist.’_ Dayesi announces fiercely.

“Yes, I’m counting on it.” he agrees.  

The rest of the flight is silent as a helicopter ride can be.

He makes sure to press himself as close as possible to Alec’s side, fingers still stroking his love’s hand. For now he will focus on helping Alec. He’ll have Lilya keep James out cold until Alec is in a state to deal with the other agent. As for MI6, well he will put James on medical leave for the time being, no reason not to.


	118. Hello Franz

Jon’s POV  
“Lilya is staying here to make sure James stays asleep  and that Alec will rest. Pyotr, Dayesi, Aither, and I are going to make Franz’s life a living hell, right before he is executed. I’ve already set MI6 on his trail, and Aither has set our collectives against him. I can say he is not having a good day as far as being a hacker goes.” He remarks, eyes narrow in anger. “Dayesi, I can give you a list of all the places he will be, think you can use it to get close and poison his arse?”

She smirks, nodding once, “Yes,” she just about hisses.

He knows that even if he wasn’t running this op, Pyotr and Dayesi would because they don’t take Alec getting hurt very well.

“Perfect.” His attention turns to the other man in their little group. “Pyotr, I’m going to walk my happy self into the middle of his compound or wherever we find him, think we can make sure I have cover without having to borrow from the Double-O section?”

“Is there a reason you plan on doing that?” the doctor demands from where she is seated next to the female assassin.

Turning his attention to Lilya, he answers, “I wish to say hello to my in-law right before he is dead.”

Dayesi laughs low in her throat, shaking her head and making her tight curls bounces in mirth. “Do you have a plan for type of poison?”

“I’m open to suggestions,” he replies, “though I want something slow acting. Or at least, slow enough that I can say hi first.”

“I’ll give it a bit of consideration,” Dayesi remarks. “When are you thinking we pull this off?”

“In the next forty-eight hours. I can’t keep James a shadow much longer than that with MI6.” He explains with a serious expression.

“Then we best get to it,” the assassin suggests. “I’ll check my stores and see what I have, make arrangements for me to see him tomorrow.”

He nods, looking to Pyotr next.

“I can get a few people freed up between today and tomorrow.” Alec’s second states calmly, only his gray eyes giving away the fact he thinks this is insane.

Their earwigs kick on as his fellow hacker remarks, ‘ _My hackers are already causing him mischief, as are yours, and a few others that I roped into it. Tell me where you need assistance and I will get it for you. Sparks has been itching to cause mayhem, as have Falco and Malcolm.’_

“Send them,” Pyotr suggests, “they can meet up with the team and travel together.”

‘ _They’ll be on the next flight over, Falco said he’s bringing his kit.’_ The female hacker states with a smirk. ‘ _I’ll be over at the end of the week to stay for at least two weeks, possibly a bit longer depending on how things are going.’_

“Perfect,” Dayesi nearly purrs, “We have some off time coming in the near future.”

“Flirt when we are not planning how to kill my should-be in-law,” he suggests, knowing his longtime friend and the other two ladies have made their own triad.

He’s well aware that both Dayesi and Aither are naturally unmarked, neither having ever had soulmarks. He’s also aware that Lilya’s had vanished several years before, and it had been a turning point in her relationship with Dayesi. He had introduced Aither to the mix eight years ago when Dayesi demanded to know who the hacker he worked with was, and was surprised by her visit. He never asked how the hacker, assassin, and doctor decided to give themselves a go as a triad, he’s simply _not_ interested in that information.

“Actually, do you have a copy of his medical records?” Lilya inquires with a tilt of her head.

“Of course,” he answers at the same time as Aither states _'Yes.'_

“Then I could probably put something together for him tonight,” the doctor offers, a vicious gleam in her eyes.

‘ _They are waiting on your computer,_ ’ the female hacker remarks, _‘I need to bug some people, so signing off, later loves.’_

“Stay safe,” Lilya bids softly.

“Happy hunting,” Dayesi states with playful tone.

Shaking his head, he comments, “Tell me as soon as those three are here so we can finish our plotting. I’m going to cuddle with Alec for a bit. I think he is still in shock.”

The other three nod in agreement.

Standing, he stretches and quickly moves through his house to their bedroom where Alec is currently sleeping curled up on the bed. His soulmate is curled around his pillow, body tense and slightly shaking.

Stripping off his outerwear and removing his earwig, he crawls on the bed, carefully pulling the pillow out of his love’s grasp in order to slip himself into that spot.

“I’m here Alec-love,” he murmurs in Scottish Gaelic, lips pressing against his soulmate’s forehead gently, eyes closing as he simply holds his love. “I’ll fix this so he can’t hurt you again.”

His hands softly travel over his love’s body, petting and stroking the still firm muscles through the thin material of Alec’s shirt. He snuggles in, knowing how much his octopus likes to hold on and feel his body close by.

“James,” Alec whimpers, still mostly asleep, probably in a nightmare considering, “ _please._ ”  The trembling gets worse, almost violent as he tries snuggling closer. “Jon, please, don’t, _Jon_.”

Stroking his hands up to Sansha’s face, he lightly cups the strong jaw, scooting so they are face to face and lightly pressing their lips together, sharing breath as he murmurs gently in Scottish Gaelic. Only his love flinches, tears slowly forming at the corners of his eyes.

That’s different, he thinks, normally it’s a comfort to his lover, not a stress. Why is it stressing him? James, he realizes, probably uses it too. Time to switch gears, so he switches to Russian, his love's primary language, murmuring until his lover starts to calm down again.

“Jon,” Sansha mumbles, eyes opening slowly, their depths vibrant green, emotion swirling in them.

“Hello love,” he whispers, pressing another soft kiss to his spy’s lips. “Are you feeling any better?”

“No,” Alec answers in Russian, giving a small shake of his head. “It hurts, after all this time it still hurts.”

He nods, not saying anything, instead he scatters feathery soft kisses across his soulmate’s face, offering comfort in his touch. Even after all these years there is still a thrill of joy over the fact his love stayed with him even when the agent could have left.

When Alec pushes on his shoulders, urging him to lay back he does so immediately knowing that whatever is to follow is something that his love wants, no _needs_ , to provide the comfort.

Vibrant eyes study him as long, calloused fingers brush over his skin, gently around his face and throat, but with more pressure as those fingers run over his shirt.

“Take it off,” he suggests, keeping his hands out of the way because he knows Alec will want to do it himself. Sure enough, as soon as his lover’s hands reach the bottom of his shirt, it’s dragged upwards, over his head and off to be tossed aside.

He moans softly as those talented fingers set to stroking his skin, following his muscles to the top of his pants before going back upwards. Chapped lips brush against his collarbone as Alec dips his head down.  His head tips back, making sure his love can easily access his throat, knowing that the older man enjoys worrying spots into his skin and delighting in carrying those marks for however long they last. Slowly, Alec works his way downwards, lips brushing the same path as his hands had originally until he hits the top of his pants.

He’s well aware this isn’t about sex, but it is made even more obvious when instead of following the same upwards path his soulmate’s hands had taken just a few minutes prior, Alec starts tracing every single line of their soulmark. He whimpers in pleasure as Sansha’s talented tongue runs along the dark, defining lines surrounded by color.

“My Rowan,” his love whispers as he reaches the top of the mark, resting his tawny head against his chest, “don’t leave me.”

His hands come up to brush through those sardonyx locks, rubbing the scalp below gently. “I have something to take care of tomorrow. Until then and after that I will be right here for you to curl around as much as you’d like. I’ll never leave you Sashenska. You’re _mine.”_

He feels more than hears the way Alec’s breath catches, knowing that his love is biting back on his pain, rather than letting it out.

“Alec-love, let go, I’ve got you,” he whispers against the top of that tawny head, having to crank his neck a bit to press a kiss to the crown of his spy’s head. Putting his head back on the pillow, he relaxes into the bedding, simply enjoying the way that Alec fits against him, just tall and broad enough to cover him completely without it being too much. His hands continue to lightly card through the tall man’s hair.

Eventually he drifts off to sleep with Alec in the same spot. When he wakes, only the moisture of his skin lets him know that his agent finally allowed it out. He knows he would just take a hot shower and let his pain out then, but that is not his love’s way. He knows Alec worries that if he does that, he’d break apart emotionally, and never be able to be put the pieces back together again. Silly Sansha, he’ll always make sure his love is put back together again.

“I have to get up,” he murmurs, fingers once more carding through the sardonyx locks.

“No,” his soulmate protests softly. “Stay.”

Smiling, he answers, “Have to, but I should be home by morning, and I will make sure to find you something to explode at that point, my firebug.”

“I’d rather you stay,” Alec grumbles, breath hot against his skin.

“I know, Sashenska, I know. I have a promise to keep.” He replies quietly, “Please let me keep it.”

He feels the flutter of his soulmate’s eyelashes against the top of their soulmark tree as Alec’s eyes close and he sighs. “I don’t want you to go, but I understand.”

Slowly getting up, Alec glances down at him, eyes raking over his body with fire and a possessiveness he appreciates burning in their turquoise depths before his soulmate offers him a hand up.

“Thank you,” he murmurs as he sits up, pressing against his love’s body.

His soulmate nods, pressing a light kiss to the spot behind his ear, arms momentarily wrapping around him tightly before letting go.

Clamoring off the bed, he heads to the closet in order to grab that dark gray suit that Alec says makes him look his age rather than younger than  he actually is. Once he has it in hand, he heads into the bathroom, happy that his parents had picked a house with each bedroom having an attached bathroom back then. Particularly since he still hasn’t taken over the master suite, that was their room, he probably never will.

When he is done, he brushes his hair, deciding to let it dry on its own, and if the curls happen to be a bit much, well that’s okay.

“Get some rest love, and stay away from Lilya’s office.” He tells his spy as he exits the bathroom, slipping his contacts in as he moves. “Try sleeping,” he suggests, smiling at the older man as green-blue eyes sweep over him. “When I get back you can take the suit off,” he offers, knowing exactly how much his soulmate likes peeling him out of suits.

Alec’s expression turns lascivious for just a moment before returning to sullen. His lover lays back down, grabbing his pillow to curl around and closing his eyes. Knowing his soulmate, the older man will sleep for a bit then be up and trying to see James. He is also aware that is probably not the best idea. So he is going to tell Lilya to keep Sansha out.  He might tell George and Mirianda to help make sure he stays out since he knows Alec is good at convincing Lilya to let him get into things he shouldn't.

Grinning at his mischievous soulmate, he moves over to the bed to kiss him gently on the forehead before leaving the room.

Heading downstairs, he stops by the kitchen to make some Earl Gray tea before moving on to his office. He spends several minutes working on his computer, checking in with MI6 and his minions. Once he is done with that, he checks to see what sort of havoc  Aither and her team are causing for Franz. Time flies as he works, and he knows the minute the Aither’s three are in Heathrow and Dayesi leaves to fetch them. As soon as they get back they will finish the planning for how to deal with Franz.

A little bit later he is in the living room with Dayesi, Lilya, Pyotr, Falco, Malcolm, and Sparks planning their attack. Lilya came up with a poison to give to his brother-in-law, one that will be untraceable. It can be mixed with anything without being noticed. Dayesi will make sure he gets and drinks it. As soon as she confirms he's drunk it, he'll see Franz and bid him goodbye.

Several hours later he has finished the very annoying flight to the city the arsehole is currently in with the rest of the team. He trusts that they will do their parts, meaning all he has to do is put himself in Franz path. Three hours after they arrive he is sitting in a booth at his idiot brother-in-law’s favorite place for drinks, waiting for the idiot to show up. Seriously, how long is this going to take? He wonders, considering tracking the other hacker down.

‘ _Poison a-go._ ’ Dayesi announces over the coms.

‘ _Perfect_ ,’ he replies. ‘ _Now he just needs to get here so I can speak with him._ ’

‘ _He's on the way,_ ’ Falco comments. ‘ _Just entered my line of sight._ ’

‘ _Thank you,_ ’ he responds, eyes sweeping the room and spotting Bogdan, Sparks, and Malcolm. As soon as he sees Franz, he murmurs, _‘Spotted._ ’

It's still another forty-five minutes before the idiot realizes he is there and makes his way over.

“I'm surprised to see you here,” Franz states as he slides into the spot across from him, finishing the drink he brought with.

“Hello Franz.” He responds with a smirk. “I thought I would meet my would be brother-in-law once before he died.” He pauses to take a sip of his drink. “I have to say you’re not impressive.”

Franz blinks, shock flashing across his face before it falls neutral again.

“You're already aware I am the quartermaster. We’re both hackers, information gathering is what we are good at. What you are probably not aware of is the fact your half-brother is one of my soulmates.” He remarks, taking another sip. Motioning to the waitress, he requests as soon as she comes over, “Fresh drinks for both of us please.”

She nods, drifting away to get their drinks.

They sit in silence as the waitress fetches the drinks, Franz is watching him with disbelief and suspicion. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Dayesi drops a second dose into Franz’s cup as the waitress passes by. To anyone else watching they would have simply seen a pretty girl bumping into the waitress on her way out, but he had been looking for it. Though he is curious when she arrived, particularly since she did not come through the front door.

‘ _A second dose?_ ’ Bogdan inquires curiously.

‘ _No reason to let him live any longer than needed._ ’ The assassin responds, ‘ _Jon's getting to say what he wants._ ’

He's almost surprised by the fact Franz says nothing to him, merely continues to study him. After they get their drinks, he waits until the idiot has nearly finished his drink before he starts speaking again.

“Now, you're probably thinking, ‘But I killed James’ soulmate, well made James kill him,’ you would be wrong.” He states, pausing to take another sip, “He's alive, and I promised him back then the person responsible for the damage done would pay. Yes, it's been twelve years, but we're hackers, time means close to nothing to us.”

“What do you think you're going to do? Your precious double-o’s aren't here to protect you.” Franz retorts coldly.

Chuckling, he responds, “I don't have to do anything. I volunteered for the spot of quartermaster. I have my own team, as does my soulmate, the one you thought you killed. I'm not counting James yet, still need to have a conversation with him. Who knows whether we will form a triad.” Taking another sip, he motions to the idiot’s glass, “You're already dead and just don't realize it yet.”

Franz eyes go wide, first in disbelief, then in denial, before finally realizing he's not joking.

“Knowing the ladies, you'll be dead about the time I finish my drink. They're good like that.” He comments, taking another sip. “I'd ask if it was worth it, but just really don't care.”

“You won’t walk out of here,” his would have been brother-in-law snarls angrily.

“Oh,” he takes another sip, “but I will. You brought four men with you, three are already out of the game and the fourth is too without realizing it.” He grins mischievously, thinking he has been around Alec and Dayesi too long, “Like I said, I have my own team.”

His eyes narrow as he notices the changes beginning to overcome Franz. The older hacker’s pupils dilating, his breath coming in short hard gasps, sweat beginning to bead across Franz’s forehead.

Finishing his drink, he nods towards the dying man, commenting, “It’s been a pleasure,” before rising and leaving Dampkring. He drops money on the table as he walks out, making sure to leave a sizable tip since the poor waitress is about to get a shock.

‘ _Let’s get going,_ ’ he suggests. ‘ _Meet at the aerodrome._ ’

‘ _Yes sir,_ ’ is chorused across the coms.

It’s time to go home, he has a soulmate to cuddle and another to confront.


	119. Home

Jon’s POV  
Franz is dead, he thinks as he ghosts through his home, heading straight towards his bedroom and soulmate. He will deal with the other one later, for now he will leave James in Lilya’s care.

When he reaches his room, he quietly opens the door, slipping inside making hardly any noise. Closing the door behind himself, he pauses to let his eyes adapt to the low light.

A soft smile curves his lips as he spots the way his Alec is curled up on the bed. Long body curled around one of his body pillows, almost completely covered by blankets and bedding with only small tufts of sardonyx hair sticking out. He spends a moment debating whether to undress himself or wake his soulmate, only for the older man to stretch much like a cat. Long body seeming to grow far longer as he stretches.

His hands go to the buttons as he continues to debate about whether to take it off or not.

“Mine,” his love mutters from the bed, slowly emerging from the blankets, “You promised.”

Smiling, he nods and moves closer to the bed, one hand reaching out to run along the dark amber hair that is just within reach. “Hello, Alec,” he murmurs warmly.

“Success?” his soulmate inquires as the older man sits up and scoots closer to the edge of the bed so he can get off.

“Yes, the ladies did a wonderful job with their poison, the rest made excellent watchers and guards, he didn’t know what hit him.” he answers as his lips twitch in a smile.

He appreciates the view as Alec stands, firm body almost completely bare except the tight black pants that leave very little to the imagination.

Pressing their bodies close together, Sansha dips his head slightly, pressing their lips together in what starts off as a soft welcome home kiss.

He smiles into the kiss, opening his mouth and enjoying the way his love immediately deepens the kiss. His eyes drift shut as his hands come up to hold the older man’s hips, fingers lightly kneading the muscles as they continue to kiss.

When they finally break apart, both of them are breathing a bit heavier and his love rests their foreheads against each other.

“Jon,” Alec mumbles, “did we really kidnap James?”

He tries for a reassuring smile as he answers, “We did.” Tipping his head up to press a soft kiss to the underside of his soulmate’s jaw, he states, “Everything will be alright Sansha. I’ll make sure of it.”

The spy nods slowly, almost unsure but seems to accept that answer.

Pressing another kiss to the underside of Alec’s jaw, he murmurs, “Right now I would really like your hands on me.”

“Yes,” is all his soulmate says before nimble fingers set to undressing him, one layer at a time, the suit tossed on the floor to be dealt with later as Alec strips him.

As soon as he is in nothing but his pants, not nearly as revealing as his soulmate’s, the older man turns them and pushes him towards the bed. He grins as he falls backwards, hands still on Alec’s hips and dragging his lover with him. Somehow his Sansha lands on his knees instead, and leans down to press their lips together in another kiss before trailing down his jaw and throat, nipping at his skin lightly.

There’s a sure fire bet he’ll have a few lovely marks come morning.

His own soft moans, low groans, and drawn out hisses of pleasure fill the air as his love takes his time touching every centimeter of him. There is nothing sexual about the way Alec’s hands and lips cover him. Touching and tracing every mark and line, flowing the paths of their shared soulmarks.

He might have requested the contact, needing the reassurance of his love’s hands on him but it is just as much for Alec.

Something he noticed in the past is the fact there are times his Sansha just needs to touch him, to just know that he can, that nothing will get between them. Normally it happens after a particular hard job or nasty injury, when old fears of physical worth not being enough surfaces. When that happens, he does just this, encouraging his love and soulmate to touch him, remember that their connection is more than skin deep. He’s seen Alec at his worst, everything since is just them.

He’s mostly passive during the exchange, not because he has to be, but because this is one of those times where his love needs to be the one in control and guiding their actions. So his slender fingers tease sardonyx hair, carding through it as his love reconnects.

By the time Alec finally relaxes, long body stretching out beside him, tugging him into a close cuddle, it’s been hours of marvelous connection and touch.

“Do you have a plan?” his Sansha asks, still touching him with light strokes and nuzzling the top of his head,

“Yeah,” he answers, snuggling into Alec’s side, throwing a leg over the well muscled limbs. “Let him ask questions, some I’ll answer, some I won’t. Possibly ask a few questions myself. I’ll put the coms on so you can listen and have me ask questions if you desire.”

For a moment his love’s arms tighten around him before they return to their hypnotic movements. “I’m not ready.”

Rolling so he can look his soulmate directly in the face, his hands come up to cup Alec’s jaw as he smiles gently, “That’s alright Alec, you don’t have to be, not now, not ever.” Stretching so he can press his lips to his lover’s jaw, he murmurs, “Thank you.”

To him it’s a big deal that his Alec has admitted that. It’s a far cry different from the Alec he met years ago, the one who was so very self destructive and depressed, the one who would have done it just to harm himself.

A small smile plays at the edge of his soulmate’s lips as the older man gazes back, not saying anything. Vibrant green eyes tell him that Alec understands.


	120. Waking Up

James’ POV  
He’s surprised when he wakes up on one of the most comfortable beds he can ever remember waking up on. It is nearly a perfect combination of soft and firm. Without opening his eyes, he tries to determine where he is. Only he doesn’t recognize any of the sounds or scents that he can detect. Slowly, he opens his eyes just a slit, trying to get a feel for where he is and still not having any ideas.

At least he’s in a bedroom, he thinks, one with nice windows if the warm feeling of sunlight on his skin is anything to go by. Opening his eyes the rest of the way he takes in the calm wood tones, the fact this is more like a guest room than a cell. Well that’s a start. There is a dresser, wardrobe, desk, the queen sized bed he is on, and a massive stained glass window of what appears to be an oak tree.

Moving his body in a slow stretch, he is happy to discover that he’s not strapped down in any way. That’s a plus too. So far this has been a very bizarre situation. He can remember being sent after an ex-spy turned traitor who was far too dramatic. He can remember that big mouth ranting and raving about rats. What a topic for him to get stuck listening to. Only he hadn’t had to listen to the entire thing, because almost as soon as the traitor was directly in front of him, reaching for the chair to settle next to him, a bullet had ripped through his heart, killing Silva. He had watched in shock as his new quartermaster took a seat across from him.

With a shake of his head and sitting up, he pulls himself out of his memories, deciding he needs to figure out how to get out of here.

A soft knock drags his attention to the fact it is slowly opening to reveal the new quartermaster, “Good morning, James,” the younger man comments as he steps in the room and closes the door behind him.

Turning to look at the younger man, memories of telling Q everything rush through him. He had spoken of things he never says. Told the new quartermaster everything he had thought and wondered and done since that day. Babbled worse than any time he has ever been drugged on a topic he normally tries to avoid in hopes that he would be able to get answers. He still doesn’t know why.

“You’re probably thirsty. I brought a bottle of water for you, seal’s untouched.” Q remarks as he tosses it on the bed next to him without closing the space between them. “Lilya did an excellent job keeping you out while we ran the situation and dealt with a bit of a problem. I hope you did not want a reunion with your half-brother. He’s quite dead now.” Leaning lazily against the wall in a stance that reminds him so much of Alec it hurts, Q states, “I think you may have some questions and I will answer the ones that I can, the rest will be answered later.”

All he can do is stare at the younger man, the new quartermaster, as he tries to understand what the hell is going on and failing. He’s missing too many facts. According to the quartermaster, Jon, he’ll answer questions. Maybe it’s time to see if he can get answers to questions he has long held and been unable to answer.


	121. Q&A Time

Jon's POV  
After reassuring Alec, he heads to the guest bedroom that he'd had the ladies shove his second soulmate in. He passes Mirianda in the hall, and asks her to fetch him a fresh and unopened water. She agrees and quickly goes to fetch it, returning while he is standing at the door and giving him the water before continuing on her tasks.

Taking a deep breath, he knocks softly before slipping in without waiting for any sort of response. "Good morning James," he greets the older man, as his eyes sweep over the room, taking in the fact James is awake nearly instantly.

He knows the moment James remembers their conversation on Silva's island because for a second the mask vanishes, leaving the spy's eyes achingly sad before it slips back into place.

While James is still processing, he comments, "You're probably thirsty. I brought a bottle of water for you, seal untouched." He tosses the bottle on the bed next to his soulmate, not crossing the space. While he is certain he could easily win a fight between them, he wishes to avoid that for now because he doesn't want to hurt James at this point. Heal first, beat the shit out of him for hurting Alec later. "Lilya did an excellent job keeping you out while we ran the situation and dealt with a bit of a problem." He's sure his expression turns predatory as he comments, "I hope you did not want a reunion with your half-brother. He's quite dead now."

Leaning against the wall, he forces himself to relax because he is trying for non-threatening. Not that he's sure it's working with the way his soulmate's eyes are watching him suspiciously. It was easier as a teenager.

He gives the older man a few minutes to think about that before continuing to speak. "I think you may have some questions and I will answer the ones that I can, the rest will be answered later."

James just stares at him, eyes flickering slightly as he considers his words.

He's quite sure that there will be questions, probably starting with 'Is Alec alive?' but he is waiting for his second soulmate to start, he's not volunteering information at this point. Giving away free information is bad with spies, it just makes them more suspicious.

James actually surprises him with where he starts, "Why did you kill Franz?"

He's sure his eyes darken as he replies, "I was keeping a promise."

"To who?" the spy demands, shifting his positioning so his legs are over the side and feet are touching the floor.

Tilting his head he answers mischievously, "Someone important to me."

He just about sees the frustration pouring off the spy as James bites out, "Is he alive?"

A part of him wants to be a smart arse and ask who, but he knows exactly who his second soulmate is asking about. "Yes." He doesn't elaborate.

"How?" James nearly shouts, coming up off the bed and crossing most the distance between them in two steps.

He arches a dark brow, not answering until his second soulmate asks in a full sentence.

Strong hands grab hold of his shirt slamming him back against the wall, making him chuckle which just seems to infuriate the spy further.

"How. Did. Alec. Live?" Each word is punctuated by a shake and he's happy he's not a child or this could be a bit dangerous.

He waits until James stops shaking him before answering, "My father was on that base. He saw Alec's soulmark and recognize it."

It's almost as if the fight is knocked out of his second soulmate as the older man stumbles backwards, "What? How? I don't."

"I helped put every broken bone back in place and I was the one who took care of him since he tried killing the nurse," he explains softly, voice firm but gentle. He can see the pain once more. It’s like looking for emotion on Alec when his Sansha doesn't want to show it.

"How many?" James whispers, the spy's voice nearly breaking his heart. "How badly? You said he tried to kill the nurse, he couldn't have done that if he was in really bad shape."

"We had to keep him unconscious for two weeks, Valentin was the one who treated him after Arkhangelsk and remembered how hard it was to keep him in bed to heal." He explains, part of him wants to hug the older man, to comfort his soulmate. Another part of him remembers how badly broken his Sansha had been and wants to make the unwittingly guilty party pay for it. "Apparently his instincts thought I needed to be there when he first woke up. The drugs to keep him asleep worked their way out of his system because he tried choking her after she didn't answer where Valentin and I were."

He watches as the spy nearly falls back on the bed, sitting down heavily, eyes wide.

"Those first few weeks were hard." He states softly, "Extremely hard. Alec spent a lot of time embarrassed and in pain, two thing I hate for him to feel, but he didn't know me back then."

"He told you," James asks hesitantly, almost as if he is unsure he should be, “about everything?”

"Well," he replies a bit mischievously, his playful nature coming to the surface. "I'm a hacker. I knew a bit more than he was comfortable with. But later, later he filled in the details I didn't have."

"That's how you knew the code, those details," the spy mumbles, staring at his floor but not actually seeing it.

"Yes, that's how I knew." He agrees smoothly, "Between myself and my best friend, we were able to get all the information on who betrayed him. It took time, but once we had it, well, the Double-O's are not the only assassins and spies I know."

James' head jerks upwards, staring at him like he is something he doesn't understand.

"I freelanced,” He sassily queries with a shrug, “what can I say?” He loses the playful edge as he continues, “Alec, he still cared what happened to you, even though you effectively killed him." His lips quirk up in a sardonic smile, "Or would have had the fates not been on his side that day. So I made sure you didn't die."

He's not going to tell James that he worried for his second soulmate. The spy doesn't need to know yet. Not now. First priority is to make sure everything is alright with Alec. Second priority is help James come to grips with his new reality. Third priority to keep James away from his Sansha until his love's ready to meet their soulmate again. Maybe, after that is done he will tell James that he's not only Alec's soulmate, but not yet.

"Would you like some time alone to process?" he asks curiously. "You can wander the house, the rooms you're not supposed to be in, you won't get in."

He knows that's a challenge the spy will probably accept, but it won't do much good. His tricks work against Alec, Aither, and Dayesi, he has faith they will hold up against James.

He doesn't mention that Dayesi also took every single weapon off the spy, including the ones he probably thought were well hidden. All the little things such as the guns and knives and even that lovely little garrote from inside the sleeve. Lilya disabled his tracker, but left it in place so they can turn it back on later. Not that it would work in his home, he made this place untraceable along with the area around it. He did it with all their safe houses as well, making several spots in the city the trackers won't work.

James looks at him speculatively, not answering, just watching him as if he is some unusual creature he is trying to understand.

He nods and leaves, going to rejoin Alec for a little bit. He doesn't want his Sansha to have a chance to overthink things and blame himself.


	122. Disbelief and Denial

James POV  
Alec never said the safe word. He never heard it. If the safe word was spoken, he would have heard it. It’s impossible he missed it. Yet. . . maybe it was said, maybe he did miss it. He can still remember the way the blood had rushed through his ears, deafening him to the rest of the world. The words that sounded garbled, that he couldn’t understand. He can still remember how much he ached, knowing his soulmate betrayed him. Yet according to Q, he’s the one who betrayed Alec. Why hadn’t he said the safe word? He could have said it just as easily.

Shaking his head, he forces himself out of his mind, taking stock of the room again, hands absently checking for weapons and tools not currently there. Where did his weapons go? What was he knocked out with? Again he forces himself to focus.

Q said he can go anywhere in the house except where there is a locked door. Therefore, Alec must be behind one of the locked doors. Now he just has to find him.

Standing, he searches the room for anything he can use to pick locks after realizing his small kit is missing.

Grumbling, he quietly leaves the room, checking every door and making a map in his head of what the house is like. Normally Q would provide that information, even though he rarely uses it. Only, can he actually trust Q?

He freezes in front of a door, glaring at it as he considers that statement. Can he trust Q? Can he trust the man who has saved his life more times than he can count? Can he trust the man who has gotten him out of more jams than he likes to admit to? Can he trust the man who saved his Alec?

 _Yes._ He thinks, answering his own question. It just leaves him with a lot of questions he doesn’t have answers for. Why didn’t Alec tell him he survived the fall? Why didn’t his soulmate tell him about the mission? Why didn’t his soulmate try the code a second time? So many whys, and not nearly enough answers.

It bothers him that Q seems to know more about Alec than he does.

Only, did he ever really know his soulmate?

His relationship with Alec had been intense. They didn’t discuss what they were, they just were. Rarely did they sleep apart and most of their missions they worked together, whether they were supposed to or not. Safe words were set up to avoid the very situation they seem to be in. Yet it all failed.

According to his quartermaster, a man he has trusted to save his life more times than he likes to count, though he is sure Q knows, it failed because of him. He doesn’t want to believe that. Can’t believe that. If it failed because of him, then every lonely night, every time he reached for Alec just to find himself alone, every time he drank himself into a stupor trying to forget is his fault.

 _Move it,_ he orders himself, spotting a random hair pin on the floor that could be useful and scoping it up. He needs to find Alec. _Has to find him._ He has to apologize, for all those lost nights.

Wait, why does he have to apologize? Alec should be the one apologizing to him! Except. . . if Q is right, if _Jon_ is right, then he’s the one who owes the apology.

Why didn’t Alec come to him in all those years, or find a way to make an arrangement for a neutral turf meeting? Why wasn’t he told his soul lived? He thought Alec died during Arkhangelsk, only to discover he was alive and a traitor. Yet according to Q he wasn’t, at least not at that point.

Finding a door with a lock on it, he uses the hair pin to carefully work the tumbler, mind switching to the task at hand rather than the fact _Alec is alive_.

He spends far longer than he likes working the tumblers in the door before it finally clicks open and he is able to investigate. It’s a bedroom, probably a triad bedroom considering the way the furniture is set up. Cautiously, he slips in, shutting the door silently behind him. His eyes scan over everything, trying to figure out who this room belongs to. There a series of pictures on the middle dresser so he stops to study them.

This is a young quartermaster, he thinks as he looks at the images, with his family. This house belongs to Q’s parents? He wonders as he glances about again, at least this room does. It’s kept clean but it’s not lived in. Hasn’t been lived in for years if he is reading the signs right. None of these pictures are new. The most recent one appears to be from when Jon was a teenager.

His eyes widen as he realizes this is the Q from just before meeting Alec. That means just a few short years before beginning to help him during situations. How much younger than them is Q? He’s joked about spots before, but this makes it feel like less of a joke.

Spotting a jewelry box, he carefully checks it for traps before opening it, searching for a few more plain pins in order to use them for lock picks.

He’s getting ready to leave the room when he hears the door latch click and his mind is telling him to drop out of sight. He follows that instinct, dropping to the ground and making sure to move quietly as he scoots under the bed. He doesn’t know how long it is until a soft sigh reaches his ears.

“You might as well come out of wherever you're hiding.” He hears Q tell him, “My alarm notified me you were in here and hadn’t left yet. I’m just curious what kept you in here for so long then I will go away so you can go back to prowling.”

Does he want to give his location away? It’s not like it’s any mystery he’s in here apparently, though he will have to look for the alarm so he can avoid them in the future.

Slowly, he scoots out from under the bed and gets up, facing the younger man head on. He hasn’t decided if Jon is an enemy or not yet.

“How old are you in those pictures?” he nearly demands, motioning to what appears to be the newest.

“Fifteen.” The answer is short and to the point, Q’s voice curt with the same type of tone he has heard used on 005 and 009 during missions when they aren’t listening and making whatever situation they are in go wrong. “It was a few weeks before my parents vanished. Six months later I lived with Valentin, eleven months after that Alec was brought home.”

He flinches at the way Jon’s voice just about caresses his soul’s name. Nobody else should _ever_ say Alec’s name like that.

“Well then, my curiosity is satisfied,” the younger man turns and leaves without saying another word.

So the hacker was either just after his seventeenth or just before his eighteenth birthday when the GoldenEye events happened. GoldenEye, there’s a situation he has avoided thinking about for years.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stares off into space as the events of so long ago flash through his mind like a movie on fast forward, images aged by time, cracked and faded. The plan was insane, but he always suspected there was more to it than the display put on in the statue park and later on the train. Only, now that he actually is forcing himself to look back, he has to admit he didn’t hear everything said. He can remember the exact moment that Alec went from playful to cold, almost beseeching to furious.

What did he miss? He missed something back then. Responding without thought, not actually considering the words used or the meaning behind them. How did he miss the most important fact? He knew Alec would never betray him, knew of Alec’s parent’s triad and how they died, knew all about his soul’s history, yet he bought the lie. It was easier to buy the lie than to admit he was missing something. Even now he wishes the lie were the truth, because it would excuse him, he would have been in the right. _Yet_...

He has to find Alec. Has to talk to him. Has to find out what is truth and what is lies. He _has_ to. There is no other option.

Determination fills him as he stands, walking over to the door to carefully check and see how an alarm was set off. When he cannot find anything with his eyes, he uses the pads of his fingers, carefully running along the edge of the door frame, looking for whatever it is that caused the alarm. He finds a small groove in the corner nearest the frame, one that the pressure from the door would change on as the door opens. That has to be it. How to open doors without alerting Q he has opened them? That’s the question of the day.

Is it possible to hold it down while moving the door? He gives a try and discovers his fingers get pinched in a rather annoying fashion trying that. Maybe get something to jam in there? The only thing he can see that might work is the pictures but he hesitates to grab them, something stopping him that he doesn’t understand.

“What are you doing in there? Who are you?” a woman demands, hands on hips and glaring at him for all he is worth. She has an American accent, probably Rhode Island or northern Michigan. Long hair held braided by pins, ah, she’s the donor of the first one. Sharp brown eyes are focused on him as if he is a common criminal.

Smiling charmingly at her, he answers, “Sorry, just looking for the loo.”

“Right,” she drawls slowly, disbelief evident in her tone. “Three doors down on the left, now get out of there. That’s private.”

Keeping the charming smile in place, he leaves the room closing the door behind him. He doesn’t miss the way she uses a key to lock the door and watches him closely as he heads to the loo. He doesn’t actually need the bathroom but it’s an old tried and true trick for getting out of situations that rarely fails to work.

In the bathroom, he glances around to see if there is anything of use, only to be disappointed when he doesn’t find any really handy items. He does wonder why there is a collection of feminine hygiene products under the sink next to the towels and extra soap, particularly if Jon’s parents are gone, and it’s only Jon and Alec here. Unless there is someone else who lives here to help keep Alec under control.

That has to be it, something has been done to his soul to make Alec not try to contact him or find him. There is nothing else that makes sense. Q’s a hacker and tinkerer not a chemist, so he would need someone else for that. Perhaps this Valentin character? He’s heard that name used with men and women alike so it’s possible.

He does find some floss and toothpaste. Maybe they can be used on the door alarms.

After tucking those items in his pocket, he flushes the toilet, washes his hands and leaves the bathroom.

The housekeeper is nowhere in sight so he goes back to trying the doors, glancing in each room before moving on. When he is done scouting this floor he realizes that there is a floor above and at least one below. Which way to go? Well if Alec’s being kept here it’s probably in a basement or attic.

Heading upstairs, he checks all the rooms, growling in frustration at the fact he cannot seem to find his soul and all the doors are opening too easily to him. When he finds the small staircase to the attic, he’s sure he’s found the right one because it has the same sort of lock on it as Jon’s parent’s room. He tries using the paste and floss to keep the alarm from changing positions, fairly certain it worked when no one shows up to see what he is doing.

Instead he finds a room full of memories. There is a small shrine in the corner it appears to be dedicated to Q’s parents. There is another area with pictures of Alec and Jon together. It physically hurts to look at them, but he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s been too long since he saw a smile on Alec’s face, a sincere one, that these images batter against the idea someone is controlling the his soulmate.

Many of them seemed to have been snapped by others when Alec and Jon didn’t realize there was a camera around, yet the pictures are in Q’s home. Almost each has them laughing or smiling. In some they are pressed so close together there isn’t space for a piece of paper. In others there is something soft about Alec’s expression, something he can’t remember seeing before but knows is real.

Valentin recognized the soulmark and brought him to me, that’s what Q had said. Maybe it isn’t drugs, but the fact Jon and Alec are soulmates. But Alec’s _his_!

Only, is Alec really his? They’re soulmates yet they keep betraying each other, even unwittingly. Maybe he should just walk away.

 _No_. He thinks fiercely. He’s _mine_. Alec just needs reminding, somehow he has to make his soulmate remember that they are important to each other. It’ll probably be hard with twelve years, no, twenty-one years since they were together, but he _has_ to do it. He can’t lose Alec again.

That decided he moves on, discovering a collection of sketches, all of them of Alec. Many are black and white, but there are some in color. He’s struck by how the emotions seem to pour off the pictures, the pain and sorrow, and fury and passion, the joy and relief. Each picture invokes feelings he’d rather not deal with but knows he must. He’s startled by the initials in the corner, JVM, and realizes these must have been done by Q.

He’s going to have a fight on his hands, he realizes, Jon _loves_ Alec. It’s there in every sketch and drawing. His eyes dart back to the pictures of the two together, the expressions on their faces, actually looking at both of them. It’s _mutual._

Swallowing hard, all he can do is stand there as the past flashes behind his eyes, all the moments shared, and more importantly all the moments lost. He thinks it’s an echo of the past when he hears the soft drawl of Alec’s voice, Russian accent sneaking in, “Hello James.”


	123. Reunion

Alec's POV  
James is at the top of these steps, he thinks as he stops at the entrance to the attic. The ghost that has haunted his mind no matter how hard he tried to push it aside is standing up there, not knowing they are so close together yet so far apart. There is a gulf made of years and pain and betrayal between them. He's not sure how it could ever be bridged, if it's even worth it. Jon seems to think it can and is, but he doesn't know. He trusted James to always be there for him, yet was betrayed. 

Franz, his mind reminds him, he’s the one who caused the betrayal. A man he never met but knows of from his Storm’s stories back then. Not that they did a lot of talking, they were a very physical pair. When they were together they touched each other constantly, to the point where there was a betting pool among the younger agents for how long until they were caught having sex at MI6. Not that they’d ever get caught if they didn’t want to.

According to Jon and Aither it was Franz who set up the bogus mission to Arkhangelsk. It was Franz who bribed his ‘handler’ into telling him James was dead. It was Franz who set up Silva and his piss-poor crew to kill or disgrace James. Everything that has happened between them can be traced back to his brother-in-law. A man he never met and didn’t even know was still alive until the two hackers zeroed in on him. Jon kept his promise: Franz will never be a threat again. 

While there is a part of him that resents that fact, he is also relieved. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe now they can get it right. First though, he has to go up those steps and see James for the first time in twelve years in person. See the changes and differences. See his Storm. See if that old spark is still there. 

I’ve dealt with harder situations than just walking up the stairs, he criticizes himself angrily. 

Yeah, but none of those situations could set his world on fire the way James can and has, he reminds himself.

The first step is the hardest, and he forces himself to do it, even though he knows he doesn’t have to. Jon left the choice up to him, but promised to support any choice he made. He chooses to see if James is still his, despite the years, pain, and betrayal.

That first step is the hardest, each step following is easier until he has ghosted up the stairs to stop just inside the door. His lips quirk in a dark smile as he remembers another time he had ghosted to a door just to greet James, so many years before. He had been shocked and overjoyed to see the information claiming James was dead was wrong. Right up until the moment he said the phrase and nothing happened. In a heartbeat he went from pleased, because maybe with James’ help he could come home and put this madness to an end, to disappointed because he was trapped like an actor on stage, forced to complete the play no matter what. 

Swallowing, he lifts his head, eyes flicking to where the cameras are positioned and noting that the lights are currently dark on them. So Jon is listening but not watching, silent support and utter faith. They have their own words to signal different things, everything from the situation going horribly wrong to needing back up. Knowing his Vansha, the earwig is set to pick up those words and notify Jon the instant any are used. He made this choice, and his Rowan is supporting it. 

“Hello James,” he softly states, mind calling forth another time he said that after a long separation. Hopefully it doesn’t go that way this time. 

It won’t, he thinks, my Rowan won’t let it.

Spinning around wildly, James’ eyes seem lost, almost as if he isn’t really here but somewhere, some _when_ else. 

“It’s been a long time,” he comments, stepping through the door and stopping. Dayesi disarmed his Storm, but that doesn’t mean James isn’t still dangerous. All Double-O’s are dangerous with or without weapons. His dark smile shifts to amusement as he observes, “You got shorter.”

“ _Alec_ ,” his name is whispered almost like a prayer and hope, something desired but unreal. “You really are alive.”

“Yes,” he agrees, remembering when he didn’t want to be, and how it was a teenager with flashing eyes that saved him from himself.

“I never, I thought,” James begins, but can’t seem to complete the sentence. 

He can understand that feeling. Jon makes him do that sometimes, surprising him in the best ways until all he can do is hold his hacker and breathe him in. As much as he’d like to do that with James, there is too much between them to do so. 

“You’ve barely changed,” his Storm comments, eyes roaming over him hungrily.

“And you’ve changed a lot,” he retorts, smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

We’ve both changed, he thinks, James externally, him internally. He’s a lot healthier now than he was back then. A lot less self destructive, James on the other hand is still self destructive, maybe even more than he used to be. Maybe they did both change internally. 

“I see you found Jon’s gallery. I suggested we convert one of the downstairs bedrooms, but for some reason he likes to have them set up here.” He comments, deciding to keep it on a neutral topic. He’s not ready to talk about _them_ yet. 

“You look,” there is a pause as if his first soulmate is trying to find the words, “happy with him.”

He doesn’t have to look in a mirror to know his expression softens, a warm smile curling his lips, eyes crinkling in quiet joy, “I have been.” Tipping his head slightly he amends, “Once we got things figured out between us.”

Jealousy and sadness flash in blue eyes he spent years dreaming about. 

“How did you survive?” James asks, almost pleading but he ignores it, it’s not a question he’s ready to answer when he is well aware Jon already did. Not when he heard their conversation via the comms system earlier. 

“I’m sure George has food ready if you’re hungry,” he remarks. “Lilya’s knock out drugs tend to have that effect and I know you haven’t eaten yet.”

Turning, he figures James won’t admit to being hungry, not when he’s running on adrenaline, so he will head to the kitchen, because instinct says he’ll be followed. Sure enough, he has barely taken two steps when he feels, rather than hears, the other spy approach.

When they reach the bottom of the steps, Mirianda is standing there glaring at the door like it’s caused her some issue. 

Her expression immediately lightens when she see him, “Sir,” she greet him pleasantly but scowls when she sees James. “I should have known you were the reason this door’s unlocked.” Glancing at him, she comments, “I found this one in the locked bedroom earlier.”

Chuckling, because James never could resist a locked door, he replies, “I’m not surprised.”

She clucks her tongue at James, shaking her head mournfully, “Bad manners I say, bad manners indeed. Then he tried charming his way out of it, as if that hasn’t been done a thousand times.” She points a finger at his Storm, “Stop making a mess!” 

He keeps chuckling, turning so he can see the startled expression on James face. Most women fall for the charm routine, but then most women never worked with Aither, Dayesi, and the other ladies.

“Thank you, Mirianda,” he tells the housekeeper, tone clearly dismissing her. 

She nods, flashing one last glare towards James before she sets to cleaning the door hinge and he can’t stop the laugh when he realizes what she has to clean off.

“Nice try, it doesn’t work,” he tells James before turning back the way he was facing.

“Then how do you get around the alarms?” The blue eyed spy asks stepping beside him and keeping pace. 

A flash of the past rushes through him, reminding him of all the times they paced the halls of MI6 together. “I don’t, Jon has the house set up for security. I have no reason to bypass it since he’s the only one with access to it.” Aither could probably access it if she tried, he thinks, but personal security is one area where they work together rather than competing against each other. 

Something flickers across his companion's eyes, a hard edge that quickly vanishes as fast as it had came. “So you are a prisoner here.”

He stops walking, turning slowly to face James, “Let me make one thing very clear: _this is my_ _home_. I can come and go as I’d like. I can invite in or kick anyone I want out as I please. At the end of the day, I accept the slight invasion of my privacy with the doors, which don’t actually say who’s going through them, only that there is someone there, over any risk or threat to Jon or myself.”

James’ eyes widen as if he wasn’t expecting that answer. Slowly the other spy nods in understanding, although he is sure that James doesn’t actually fully understand. 

Turning on his heel, he continues on his path to the kitchen to see what George may have thrown in the oven for them. Vansha’s assistant fills the role of PA, cook, and chauffeur as the need arises. 

Several times his first soulmate tries to speak with him about the events that lead them to this situation. He’s not ready to speak with James about them, so he says nothing at all, keeping his focus everywhere else but on the words coming out of the blue eyed spy. Soon they will have to discuss it, but for now James needs to take a hint and drop it. 

When did he ever do that? He thinks sardonically as he greets George, that would be far too easy.


	124. Seven Long Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Note:** this chapter covers from when James is sent to China to the beginning of the next chapter, however it is not chronical because some of the character views overlap and or have time hops.

Jon’s POV  
He releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he hears the slow footsteps of James following Alec down the steps. For a moment he had not expect it to go well, and had wanted to rush up there to help Sansha. He knew that would be the wrong choice however, so he stayed where he is in front of his computer, his earwig on and the microphone turned off.

He’s so very proud of Alec. He knew exactly how hard seeing James was going to be for his love. It’s part of why it has taken them so many years to do so.

Now, does he want to leave the safety of his office and go check on Alec in person when they reach the kitchen, or should he stay here so the reunion can be just between them? Well, as between them as having earwigs turned on can be.

Oo-O-oO

James’ POV  
Why is Alec not talking to him about the time apart? They need to talk about it. He needs answers. Q couldn’t have been right. Could he? Eventually he gives up, instead he asks about the house, the security, and the people he’s seen. Those questions are answered. At least for the most part they are answered. He doesn’t understand why Alec seems so hesitant to talk to him. Is someone listening in or forcing him not to speak?

He’s surprised when Q appears at Alec’s side, hand lightly touching his soul’s back, brow arching in a silent question. An entire conversation passes in a flash. Jealousy flares hot in his chest, as he remembers all of the times they used to do that.

“I’ll leave you to it,” the quartermaster comments, voice soft, a warmth he’s not used to hearing filling it.

“Thank you, Vansha,” his soul murmurs, pressing a brief kiss to the quartermaster’s lips.

“Always, Sansha, always.” Q replies, nodding once in his direction before leaving.

They end up sharing a quiet dinner before Alec shows him back to the room he had woken up in, bids him goodnight and walks away.

The jealousy that had flared earlier rises once more, hotter and faster than he can remember ever being at someone. Alec is _his_! Not some hacker’s. Why did Alec leave him? As fast as the jealous flares it fades, replaced by a bone deep sorrow. _Alec_. . . 

Oo-O-oO

Alec’s POV  
As soon as he walks into their bedroom, his Rowan is there. Slender arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace, cheek pressed gently against his, soft words murmured just to comfort him.

“It still hurts,” he whispers, burying his nose in Jon’s dark hair, arms holding tight to the lithe body of his younger soulmate.

“That’s okay though,” his hacker murmurs comfortingly.

“Why does it still hurt? Why did he keep asking?” He hates how weak he is feeling, but willingly accepts the comfort offered since he knows it’s not out of pity.

“Because he betrayed you, no matter how unwittingly, and that always hurts. It’s only so much worse when done by someone who is supposed to be there for you no matter what.” Jon replies softly. “He’s still processing, and I don’t think he considers me an acceptable source of information on the topic.” Vansha’s tone turns playful, “After all I was a moody teen back then.”

Snorting, because Jon was anything but the typical teen, he nods, arms slowly loosening.

“Come cuddle with me,” Jon requests softly.

“Yes,” he agrees, knowing it will do them both some good. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Oo-O-oO

James' POV  
He doesn't actually sleep that night, instead he finds himself searching the house, going through it room by room, trying to understand all of the differences in his soul. This Alec is nothing like he remembers and exactly like he remembers all in one. It's confusing. Disorienting.

Part of him wants to leave the house, to call for backup, to do something, anything to separate them. Only, he knows if he does that he'll probably be hurting his soulmate. He's done that so many times he doesn't want to do it again. So he has to find some other way to win Alec back, and the best way to do that is to gather as much information as possible. He's the best MI6 has to offer, time to use those talents.

Only he doesn't find as much as he wants. Worse, there are actually several doors he discovers that he cannot pick the locks on. How is he to find out what's behind them if he can't get them opened? It's definitely something for him to think about.

Oo-O-oO

Aither's POV  
Since she knows that Jon is with Alec and it has been a very long day for the both of them, she assigns herself the duty of protecting them from this outsider. She doesn't try hacking the security around the doors, but uses her access code to turn on all of the hall cameras, something that Jon and her had agreed on when they remodeled the houses. She has his camera codes and he has hers, both have the numbers memorized so they do not risk someone finding them.

Through the night she watches as their third soulmate snoops around the house, going in and out of rooms. Each room he enters she clicks the camera on in order to watch him, only to turn it off when he leaves.

She doesn't like this James person. Not one bit. He upset Alec, which upset Jon, and that pisses her off.

Over the years she has helped Jon keep track of him because they knew eventually Alec would be ready to have a reunion. She had thought it crazy until her best friend explained it to her, like a compulsion to be with someone loved, a feeling she understands. She always wants to be with her ladies when they are apart, and if it's anything like that, well she can sympathize with Alec.

Maybe because she's a hacker and lived on the streets most her life she lives by a different set of rules, but it's really not nice to be snooping around the way he is. She almost wishes he'd make the mistake of touching a window just because that would be fun to watch him jump when the electricity hits.

Instead she gets amusement out of him trying to get into their bedroom and failing. She knows the locks are magnetic, thumbprint coded, and retina scanned so he's not getting in any time soon, no matter how much he wants to.

Oo-O-oO

Pyotr’s POV  
While he understands why Jon ordered him to make sure none of the minions they dealt with will ever be found, it still pisses him off that he will not be there to support his Boss when being confronted with that worthless excuse of a soulmate.

He hate's James almost as much as the creature the ladies just poisoned. That asshole hurt his friend. Not just a little hurt either, but a massive case of heartbreak to the point where Alec was suicidal at one point. He personally thinks that his Boss should beat the shit out of James but has a feeling his Boss isn't going to do it.

Of course, he nearly drops his phone when the video and audio kicks on seven days later. He finds a private room where he won’t be disturbed and actually watches the image. Laughter pours from his mouth when he realizes what’s going on.

That worthless excuse for a soulmate is getting his arse handed to him by Jon, and if he’s not mistaken they are in the middle of MI6. Which means not only is he getting his arse handed to him, he is being embarrassed and humiliated as it happens.

_It’s perfect!_

Afterwards, his phone buzzes with a text message, -Thought you’d appreciate that.-

-Yes, Little Boss, I did.- He replies, still grinning at how thoroughly Jon kicked James’ arse.

It doesn’t totally make up for being left behind, but at least James got to feel some of the pain he caused, even if it’s only temporary.

Oo-O-oO

Alec’s POV  
He sleeps fitfully, only resting at all because of his Rowan soothing him back into calm sleep every time a nightmare or memory wakes him up. It doesn’t help that he can hear James outside of the door trying to pick the lock, as if that is actually going to work. He doesn’t know what all has been done to the locks for them to be so secure but he knows he and Dayesi couldn’t pick them, which means James won’t be able to either.

Eventually his first soulmate goes away, and a small part of him wonders if James will leave his life forever. He’s relieved when Jon whispers, “He’s still prowling the house, I have the alarms set to tell me if he touches any of the windows, outside doors, fire escapes, or phones.”

After that it is a lot easier to  sleep.

Oo-O-oO

James’ POV  
Breakfast is a quiet affair for which he is thankful because he has a pounding headache from not sleeping. He gets to meet Jon’s assistant, and finds himself hoping to catch a few minutes alone with the man. He’s quite sure someone in that position would have ways into the locked rooms, or at least know what sort of key was used for them.

Of course, his hopes for questioning the assistant come to a grinding halt when Jon looks directly at him and suggests, “You may wish to go shower and change, you’re due at MI6 in one hour.” The quartermasters lips quirk upwards as he adds, “I had one of ours fetch you a change of clothing. She has better fashion sense than me so it will probably look good, but she doesn’t like you, so there is no promise it will match.”

What the hell? It’s one thing for MI5 and MI6 employees to go in his flat, totally another to have some stranger go in his things. Angrily he pushes away from the table and heads upstairs.

Oo-O-oO

M’s POV  
She had sent an extraction team to Bonds location, only his tracker had gone offline just before they arrived. According to the reports she received, Bond was nowhere to be found, Raoul Silva was dead, as were his guards, and there was a woman tied up in one of the out buildings. The computers were wiped clean, as if they had never been used.

She was pacing her office when the computer chimed that she had a message. That message ended up being from her quartermaster: he was paying a debt owed, Bond would be back in forty-eight hours, and have a nice day, the list was recovered before any of the names could be posted.

Three days later security informed her that Bond was here, with the quartermaster no less, and dropped off by an unknown subject. Of course she summoned them to her office.

Bond had nearly sauntered in, in his typical style, although his outfit is a bit odd. For some reason he is wearing a perfectly nice black suit with a neon pink shirt beneath it.

Q on the other hand had been distracted as he walked in, doing something on the tablet he’s carrying and paying very little attention to anyone else.

“What the hell happened?” she demands, not even bothering to greet them.

Shutting the tablet off, the younger man closes it and looks up, amber eyes locking on her as he answers, “A situation years in the making was dealt with before it could be much worse. Your agent was saved from a potentially deadly situation, and a plot was stalled out.”

Startled, she just stares at the young quartermaster.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go gear up 004, he’s due to leave in four hours.” Q informs her, not waiting for her to respond before walking out of her office as if he is dismissing her.

She’s left staring at the door, shocked and furious, because who’s the boss here?

“Do you have anything to add Bond?” she demands.

“No ma’am, I woke up at Q’s house but his driver is insane so I doubt I would be able to lead you back to it if I wanted.” He replies.

Sighing, she sits down and comments, “His address is not to be on file anywhere. It’s part of his two year contract to be renegotiated at the end of the contract. Damn him. He’s an excellent quartermaster, but I hate when people keep secrets from me!”

Bond just nods, staring straight ahead as if he is thinking about something.

“Go away,” she tells him, “I will see if there is anything that requires your attention.”

“Ma’am,” he hums in agreement before walking out.

Oo-O-oO

Tanner’s POV  
He watches from his office as the quartermaster and Bond are seen into M’s office. Less than five minutes later the quartermaster leaves, attention clearly elsewhere as he does so. Not long after that Bond leaves. A moment later he is asked to come into her office.

“Yes ma’am?” he queries as he uses the door that connects the offices together.

“Do we know anything at all about the quartermaster’s previous work?” She asks tiredly.

“Just what we knew when he interviewed seven months ago ma’am,” he replies seriously. “Is there something I can take care of?”

“No,” she answers, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I was hoping something had turned up. Apparently the mission to get the codes back was completed by Q and an unnamed source. Q doesn’t bother me so much, he notified me before he even started here that there would be missions he deals with himself, it’s the unknown source that bothers me. “

He nods in understanding. Outside assets could be very dangerous things to their security. “Would you like me to try putting out feelers without telling Q-Branch?” he offers slowly.

“No,” she answers, hand dropping to the table, “I don’t think it would work, that boy has more resources than we know of, just look at how much he knew about our people before ever  stepping foot inside the building.”

That’s a very good point that he forgot about. Maybe he can speak with Q and see if the younger man will open up to him, if only enough to reassure him the outside asset won’t be a threat so he can reassure M.

“Have Moneypenny get me a fresh pot of tea,” she requests, turning her attention to her desktop and clearly dismissing him.

“Ma’am,” he agrees, leaving her office and going to talk to the agent turned secretary.

He’ll pay Q-Branch a visit later, after 004 is on the road.

Oo-O-oO

Alec’s POV  
The house seems almost too quiet right now and he soon finds himself in the basement working on one of his pet projects in order to pass the time. Old memories long since suppressed or forgotten have risen to the surface because of James’ re-entrance to his life. Jon would have stayed home with him and had Ally do the fitting for 004.

What the hell is happening in his life right now? He wonders as he takes his bomb making things out and sets to creating that trigger he was looking forward to just a few short weeks ago. It’s not attached to anything explosive right now. He knows better than to work with actual explosives when he is in this sort of mood.

A few hours later when Dayesi comes to drag him out of the basement and to the workout room for sparring match he goes with, still distracted but knowing that will be solved soon enough. After all, it’s never wise to fight a Double-O or someone with like training while distracted.

Oo-O-oO

Ally’s POV  
Something is going on, she thinks as she watches her boss walk into the room, every minions’ attention automatically switching to him without him seeming to notice. Normally he greets them when he gets in but not today.

She’s in the middle of walking towards his office when an alarm goes off, 009 is in trouble, whatever is bothering Jon will have to wait.

Oo-O-oO

James’ POV  
Since M doesn’t actually have anything for him right now, he decides to try and find his way back to Q’s house. Normally he can do something like that blindfolded by keeping track of turns, stops, and estimated speed but he has a feeling that insane man’s driving is going to make it impossible, particularly since he had a hard time determining speed and turns.

Instead he finds himself migrating towards Q-Branch, watching the way Jon gives orders which are jumped at to be obeyed. Despite the attention on the young quartermaster, the hacker doesn’t seem to pay any attention to them as he focuses on the main screen.

009 seems to be in a bit of a predicament, he realizes as he watches the events unfolding.  

It doesn’t seem to faze Q as the hacker gives the Double-O directions and uses the three computers set up before him simultaneously.

Forcing his attention away from Q, he notices exactly how different the branch is compared to when he was last here seven months ago. The only people he sees are the computer programmers, hackers, and aides. Actually none of the equipment is anywhere in sight.

“Can I help you Bond?” R asks, pausing beside him from whatever task she was doing.

“No, I just wanted to see the new branch for more than the second required to pick up supplies.” He answers, smiling at her warmly. He’s known her most of her life, side effect of the fact her mother was R for a while and her triad father was also R for a time. It seems to run in the family.

“Q has restructured the branch. All the technicians are on this floor, directly below are the design rooms, to the side are the new ranges and testing rooms.” She explains, “Everyone in the branch was tested and then reassigned according to how well they did on their testing. There were a lot of people who were retired out, a few who were outright fired, and a lot of new hires.”

He nods, looking around he could believe that.

“How is he as a boss?” he asks curiously.

“Well loved, he’s serious and firm but understanding and patient. The major worked well with the creators side, not so well with the information processing side, Q works with both equally.” She answers with a smile, “The minions,” she waves a hand to the room at large, “will do practically anything he needs, all he has to do is mention it.”

He glances at her questioningly, surprised because minions are not known for their loyalty. “Why minions?” he queries, that’s a word used with crime organizations more than intelligence organizations like this.

“Just watch them and you will know why,” she replies, nodding at him before continuing on her way.

So he does. He watches as Q guides 009 through the situation. Watches as orders are given and followed almost fast enough to make a person’s head spin. Watches as someone sets a cup of tea down and practically beams at the thanks. Watches as the hacker smoothly switches between screens and gives several minions tasks by name, a feat the major never quite managed.

He can definitely see why they are called minions, he thinks as he leaves, not realizing that Q was aware of his every move within the Q-Branch.

Oo-O-oO

Alec’s POV  
By the time he feels better, it is nearly time for Jon to get off work as long as nothing went wrong within the branch today.

“Do you want me to stick around?” his longtime friend and fellow spy asks.

“No. Jon should be home soon. I’m going to clean up the workshop and see what George put on for dinner.” He replies, smiling at her attempt at supportive.

She nods, not asking if he is sure or anything else of that nature, instead she heads towards the door, pausing only long enough to say, “If you need something, anything, _call_.”

“I will,” he tells her, knowing she hears the unspoken thanks in the words too.

He still has the syndicate, though not nearly as active as it used to be. Instead of being a major crime organization, it’s more of an intelligence agency nowadays, officially it’s a mercenary company. It would probably horrify James to realize exactly what he does in his spare time. Of course, it’s not only intelligence, there is also some weapon running, mercenary work, and special forces ops.

A little bit later, he has finished putting everything away when he hears James and Jon speaking in the front hallway as he emerges from the lab in the basement. Apparently they are discussing the fact there are some lock’s his first soulmate couldn’t pick.

“Alec,” James comments, trying to draw him into the conversation, “Surely you must have gotten past his security? No way had this kid designed all the defenses around this place.”

Smiling, because he recognizes the ploy, he replies, “He designed the security, just as his hacking partner designed hers. Then they tested each other’s and had the spies between our groups test them as well.”

James just pouts, apparently that was not the answer he was looking for. Hopefully it will be the last time the blue eyed spy tries something like that but instincts say he’s not that lucky.

Oo-O-oO

Lidiya’s POV  
She’s the one who suggests that Dayushka should pay Alec a visit. While they don’t work for him in the same manner as they used to, they are still friends and she knows that things have been rather stressful for him lately.

She almost wants to do a physical to make sure it is not affecting his health, but she knows the only way that happens is if Jon talks him into it. Alec likes her as a person but hates having to see a doctor. She’s seen him in what other people would consider an extreme injured condition stitch himself up and keep going. Of course that hasn’t really happened since Jon entered his life because the hacker will not let him do that for any longer than necessary.

 _‘Lila dear, stop fretting, everything will be alright. If it’s not, well you know Jon, he will bring hell down on this world to make it so, and we’ll join him.’_ Aither murmurs in her ear, surprising her because she forgot she had the earpiece in. Thankfully, the new design is a lot safer to use than the older ones.

“Hello love,” she replies with a smile, even though she knows her triad member can’t see it. “I  know, but I still worry.”

 _’That’s one of the things I love about you,’_ her hacker answers affectionately.

“How’d you know I was worrying?” She asks curiously.

 _’Dae informed me you sent her to check on Alec.’_ Her lover promptly replies, amusement replacing the curiosity.

She laughs softly, warmth filling her because her spy and hacker care so very much. It’s a beautiful thing to belong to a healthy triad and she’s lucky to have such wonderful loves.

Oo-O-oO

James’ POV  
He spends every moment he can with Alec, wanting to show why he is such a better person to keep than Jon. Normally he’d be fine with sharing. They’d shared lovers in the past after all, but he doesn’t like the fact the quartermaster had his soul for twelve years. He doesn’t like the fact he spent so long thinking the person he loves is dead and that _he killed him._

So every chance he get, he stays with Alec. He tries every trick in the book to make his soul prefer him, yet none of them seem to be working. He’s rather thankful he hasn’t been sent out on assignment, he’d have a hard time focusing right now because _Alec_ but it’s not something he can tell M. He still doesn’t know if she was in on what happened, if it was the previous M, or if neither of them had anything to do with it. Every time he tries to talk to his love about it, Alec refuses to answer or changes the subject. The only thing he will say on the matter is to ask Jon. Why would he ask that pup?

All he wants is his Alec back. Is that too much to ask?

Oo-O-oO

Jon’s POV  
He brows furrow as he frowns, wondering why his second is stepping into the office and shutting the door.

“Can I help you with something?” he queries politely, quickly running through every mission and situation they are currently handling and gathering information for. There are none that would cause her to need a private meeting, unless something has just come up and she has come to tell him. That’s always a possibility.

“No,” Ally replies, “I was coming to see what I could do for you.”

Blinking, because what does she think he needs? He asks, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve been distracted for the last few days, the minions have noticed and are concerned about you. It all started after the Silva situation when you had some of the more talented hackers dealing with an opposing hacking ring, alongside several unknown hackers.”

“Ah,” he hums in response. How much to tell her? He’s not sure if his rule of truth or silence really applies here. “Years ago I made a promise to my soulmate, I finally was able to keep it because of an informant who was able to crack into Silva’s computers while the hackers were keeping his people busy. That situation is dealt with, but it has opened up a new one that I still need to deal with.”

She blinks at him, muttering, “I thought you are the best hacker in the world?”

“I’m one of two. My best friend is just as good as I am. We compete against each other regularly, and have done so since we were fifteen.” He responds, smiling fondly at the thought of Aither and all the antics they have pulled over the years. He’s not going to mention breaking into MI6 and the CIA was one of their favorite past times. Now that he works for MI6, they spend more time hacking the CIA instead. He also hacks the Chinese and Russian governments, just to keep up on both the languages more than anything else.

“Ah,” she takes a seat across from him, asking, “So do you need help with this new situation? I know we haven’t known each other long, but I would like to think we are becoming friends. I want to help if I can.”

He smiles at her warmly, responding firmly, “As much as I appreciate the offer, I must decline. I cannot accept assistance until I know how the cards are going to fall.”

She nods in understanding, standing up and commenting, “Just remember you have friends outside your mysterious soulmate and those you used to work for.”

He fights back a smirk as he replies, “I didn’t work for them, they worked for me.”

Her eyes widen at the implication, particularly since she knows he freelanced. That means he didn’t actually have someone mediating between him and those who hired him for security jobs to check their system.

He watches as she connects the dots and merely nods, the hints of that smirk evident in his smile.

“The offer still remains,” she tells him firmly, “and I will keep that bit of information to myself.”

“Thank you,” he answers sincerely, “for both.”

Oo-O-oO

Tanner’s POV  
He’s surprised by the email he gets from Q asking for all agents and potentials not on assignment to meet him in the training hall. They spend several minutes discussing what it is the quartermaster wants, and he is uncomfortable with what Q is implying. Despite that, he agrees and sends out the message, summoning them all before going to speak with M about it. He probably should have asked her, but Q is the same rank as him in their hierarchy, and thus can call the agents and potentials together like that.

Standing, he heads over to the door between his office and hers. Knocking twice, he waits for permission to enter before he slips in, walking over to her side and waiting for her attention to change to him before speaking.

“The quartermaster has requested all agents and potentials be called to the training gym, I approved it and sent out the message.” He informs her, watching her expression for her opinion.

“Did he say why?” she asks after thinking about the request.

“No,” he replies, “I think he plans to make a point, but he declined the self defense classes so I do not know what his level of skill is.”

“We shall attend as well,” she states, nodding once decisively, “When is it?”

“One hour before lunch,” he answers.

“Make sure my schedule is clear for that time block. I wish to see what he is planning, perhaps it will help us know where he received his training from.” She remarks, her attention turning back to her desktop. “That will be all for now, thank you Tanner.”

“Yes ma’am,” he agrees, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

Most think that M is cold and a bit of a bitch. Truthfully, she cares a great deal about her agents, and she will do a great deal to help them, but there are limits and many of the agents push those limits just because they have a hard time answering to a woman. He sometimes wonders if the various agents have a hard time accepting orders from the new quartermaster because Jon’s history is unknown to them. After all, they aren’t sure what sort of training and history Q has, only that he’s an outsider who expects to be obeyed when he gives directions.

Returning to his office, he does as requested and makes plans to take notes. It is going to be an interesting day, he’s sure.

Oo-O-oO

Eve’s POV  
She happens to occupy a unique position. She is both an agent and an executive aide. While she is not at the top of the food chain, she knows how to gather intel and keep her mouth shut, so when she gets the summons as an agent, she is mildly surprised. Tanner rarely classifies her as an agent.  

At the designated time, she rides down on the lift with M and Tanner, wondering exactly what is going to happen because there was nothing but an order to meet in the email. No instructions past that.

She’s surprised to see exactly how many people have packed themselves between the training room and the observation deck. She makes her way within the training room, rather than the observation deck, so she can listen to the others while they wait.

When the new quartermaster walks in and heads directly to the free space that is the fighting mats, she’s even more surprised. What’s going on here? She wonders, ears keen to hear the rumors. There are a lot of people who are quite sure this is going to be a complete waste of time. Others who think that the Q-Branch overlord has decided to challenge the most talented of the Double-Os and close to everyone of them thinks the quartermaster will lose.

“007, front and center,” Q announces, sounding almost bored.

Her eyes widen, because he can’t do that, that’s not a smart choice.

“Q,” there is disdain in the agent's voice, something new because when they discussed the quartermaster is China, James had liked Q. What changed?

“007,” Q replies coolly, voice smooth and even, reminding her of a sheet of glass.

She doesn’t actually listen to the rest of their exchange, instead she watches and listens to the people around her, getting a feel for the mood. That doesn’t last long however, because as soon as Bond attacks, her attention along with everyone else’s, is suddenly on the pair. She watches in silence, her estimation of the quartermaster’s talents going up with every blow deflected or avoided. Where did he learn to move like that? Hackers rarely have the martial training needed to defend themselves, yet apparently he does.

What surprises her the most is how Q just ends the fight with a few precise and dangerous blows that has her wincing as Bond hits the floor.

Turning towards the crowd and ignoring the downed agent, the quartermaster states clearly, voice carrying despite the lack of volume, “I am the youngest person in this room. I am a hacker. I am the Quartermaster.” She can practically hear the capitalization on his title. “Do not think that means I do not know what I am talking about when I give directions or orders.”

Without bothering to wait for any sort of response or offering Bond a hand up, Q walks towards the door, the crowd parting like the red sea before him. Almost as soon as the quartermaster has left the room it explodes in noise. So many of them are amazed. How can someone who looks like that take on someone like 007, the most vicious and lethal agent and live, let alone win? Yes the fight ended on a cheap shot, but it lasted longer than any of the other agents or potentials have ever been able to do.

The only agents that don’t seem to be surprised are Bond and Connor.

Bond would be suspicious if she asked him questions, but Connor is still new enough that he might not realize her motivation. She will definitely have to talk to him about what he knows.


	125. Point to Make

Jon’s POV  
In the week since James became an active part of their lives, there have been several occasions where the spy tries goading him into a confrontation and undermining him with Alec. Thankfully, his Sansha saw what was happening and ignored the childish behavior. However he is beginning to run out of patience for it.

While James is out of the house on the eighth day, he asks Alec, “Will you mind if I bash his head in a bit?”

Alec glances ups from the paper he was reading to inquire, “Do you think you actually can?”

“Yes,” he answers immediately, “Between you, Dayesi, and Aither I have an arsenal of ways to bash brains in. I think he needs to know that.”

Smirking, his lover nods, agreeing, “Do it then,” before returning to the paperwork he’s working on.

“I’m due at MI6 tomorrow,” he comments, rubbing his fingers along his jaw, “I’ll see if he’s willing to spar with me in the gym. I’ll make sure the camera’s stream to the laptop so you can watch.”

“Thank you, that should be funny,” his soulmate responds, smirk growing.

The following day he puts in a request with Tanner to have all the Double-Os  not currently in the field report to the training hall. He wants to prove a point. Of course Tanner is uneasy about it but he talks the older man into agreeing with him. Just before lunch he receives a message saying when they will be gather and quickly sets up a link between his laptop and the cameras. He knows that Alec will be watching for the green light that signals it’s on to light up, and doesn’t feel the need to send a message past that.

At the proper time, he heads to the training room, not bothering to change into one of the workout outfits as some of the Double-Os have.

Something all four people who have taught him various things have stressed is being able to defend himself no matter what he is wearing or how he is feeling. Of course, of the four Aither’s was probably the most dangerous and his da’s the least. Alec prizes him too much to risk permanently injuring him. Dayesi was concerned with what Aither and Alec would think if she hurt him long term. Aither though, she had grown up fighting with gangs on the street and learning to defend herself from threats that could be two to three times her size, and when she taught him her tricks, she made sure he could too. It had drove Alec and Valentin around the bin, making both of them worry but had ultimately been a remarkably good thing because it proved to the two assassins, Alec and Dayesi, that he could learn and deal with dangerous situations.

He doesn’t bother to stretch the way some of them are, or even to warm up in any sort of way. He doesn’t need to. Not like some of them do, another useful lesson from the ladies.

Once they are gathered, including most of the executives, he calls out, “007, front and center,” as he moves to the middle of the mat.

Everyone falls quiet as he does so, watching in shock because it’s a known fact that 007, James Bond, is uncommonly good at fighting and has one of the best track records here.

“Q,” it’s almost sneered as the blue-eyed agent stops just before him.

“007,” he replies far more politely. Raising his voice so the rest can hear him he states, “I’m the youngest person in this room. I am also one of the executives who runs MI6. Since trying to be patient and show my competence hasn’t done the trick, I decided it was time for a demonstration. Since 007 is both the most willfully ignorant and most respected agent, this should make my point nicely.”

“Like you’ll manage to do anything, can you even-” James doesn’t finish the question, instead throwing a series of quick punches which he easily side steps before planting his knee in the spy’s stomach and bringing his elbow down hard on the spy’s back, striking with precision born of lots of practice. He pulls it just enough not to do permanent damage but leaves enough power to make his point before stepping back.

“You were saying?” he queries dryly.

James narrows arctic eyes at him, stepping forward and feigning as if he is going to kick only to throw a punch. It’s a tactic he has seen Alec use a thousand times and he side steps outwards rather than inwards and punches James in the kidney as he hops backwards.

After that there is no time for conversing as they go at it. It’s so very like sparring Alec that he catches himself responding the exact same way. He stays that way right up until he is ready to make his point to James and the other agents, and he switches to fighting like Dayesi and Aither.

“You know if I had a knife you’d be dead at least three times,” he remarks calmly, bare breathing heavy as he dodges another well aimed but easily spotted kick. Technically he has four on him, he’s just keeping them put away since this is not a situation where they are needed.

James doesn’t reply and he doesn’t expect one.

Around them he can hear the quiet murmuring, the muttering of voices full of shock and awe. He’s pretty sure he’s made his point, now he needs to finish this.

Darting to the right and forward, he brings his knee up to slam into the spy’s thigh as his elbow slams hard into the spot where James was shot seven months prior. As intended, the older man goes down with a gasp, his elbow jerking backwards to connect with the back of the shoulder as he does so.

Dropping his arms to his sides, he slowly takes in the faces watching him. “I am the youngest person in the room. I am a hacker. I am the Quartermaster. Do not think that means I do not know what I am talking about when I give directions or orders.”

With that he turns and leaves the room, biting back the smirk as the room explodes in sound before the door can even shut. Maybe he should have checked to make sure James is alright but he considers that only a small piece of what the blue-eyed spy deserves for all the pain he put their soulmate through.


	126. Pinched Ear

James POV  
He spent the rest of the day thinking about the fact the barely-an-adult quartermaster roundly kicked his arse. It definitely was not something he expected. Q doesn't look like he can even stay in a fight for more than two or three seconds, yet Q held him off for several minutes before finally deciding to win the fight. It was almost like sparring against Alec.

After Q leaves he decides to head to the office he has, and rarely uses, to fill out some of that past paperwork. Not because he really wants to but because he needs something nearly mindless to work on.

He's surprised when a few hours later Tanner stops by, knocking at the door and asking, "Something wrong? You don't do paperwork."

He rolls his eyes, muttering, "No."

Expression bland, the Chief of Staff  retorts, "Really? I'd say your pride was bruised if I hadn't seen you lose fights in the field without acting like this."

Studying Tanner, he sighs and motions to the door, maybe he should speak with the other man. After all, Tanner's wife is the Chief of Staff of MI5 and his husband belongs to MI5 as an agent. Yet he doesn't like asking for help so he decides to not say anything. He hasn't done anything wrong.

"I'm just trying to figure out how such a runt could get the better of me in front of all the other agents and trainees." He comments with a lazy shrug.

Tanner tilts his head to the side, making a humming noise before stating, "M wants you gone for the next week on leave. She says it's been too long since you took a leave that didn't include medical reasons."

He doesn't like that but he nods in agreement.

After Tanner leaves he realizes that this could work out. Q still has to work so he will have Alec to himself. Maybe he can reconnect with his soulmate. Maybe he can find out why Alec never told him he was alive. Find out why his soul betrayed  him. Get years worth of questions answered without that kid in the way.

Feeling better than he has in days, he nods to himself, finishing up and leaving without speaking with anyone else.

When he gets to the house, he is pleased to see Q isn't here yet.

"Alec?" He calls out as he slips through the front door, right now he doesn't want to hunt for his soulmate, preferring to not startle him right now when he is so unsure of his placing with  his soul.

"Office," Alec calls back.

Almost happy, he heads to the office, stopping just inside the door to study his long lost soulmate. Alec looks so very similar to how he had back then though there are some noticeable differences such as the faded scars, slightly wider jaw, the crow marks on his eyes. His soulmate's eyes seem a lot calmer and balanced than he can remember.

"Hello Alec," he greets his love softly, moving further into the room.

Smiling almost as warmly at him, Alec sets his pen down and meets his gaze, "James."

He spends several breaths staring at the man he thought he lost for good, still so very surprised that Alec is alive, and so very thankful.

Before he has a chance to say anything, he hears the front door open, and the has to bite back a growl of frustration. Taking a deep breath, he reminds himself that he will have the next few days to  spend with his love and rebond with his soulmate. Maybe they can even get their storm to something almost peaceful again.

He watches as Alec rises and moves a bit stiffer than he remembers towards the door, pausing next to him for a moment but not actually reaching for him before continuing on.

Every time his soulmate does that, he cringes internally, hating that Alec is so hesitant to touch him. He can remember when they came together any time they were  in touching range. How their hands were almost always on each other. The petting and kissing and making out and sex of all types.

Quietly, without touching him, his love continues past, moving down the hall to the living room and he follows.

This hurts, he's wanted Alec, his soul and love, back since he lost him twenty-one years before. Both times he was sure that Alec was dead, yet here his soulmate, his Storm, is alive. It's been twelve years since the last time he thought Alec died and it still hurts as if it just happened.  

"Vanyusha," his soul murmurs, cupping the smaller man's jaw and pressing a kiss to Q's lips.

It bothers him the ease than Alec greets the quartermaster and the familiar name between them.

He's jealous, he realizes as Q replies gently, "Sansha."

He glares at the younger man, thinking it is all Jon's fault that he lost his Alec. His soulmate would have come home if not for this man.

Turning to him, Q nods, commenting, "James, thank you for helping me make a point today."

He growls angrily at the younger man, fury rushing through him. How dare this boy with spots make such a remark. "I was going easy on you," he snaps.

A sarcastic smirk curves the quartermaster's lips as the smaller man drawls, "Really." There is skepticism and dark amusement in the younger man's voice.

"Yes," he snaps.

"I'll win if we go again," Q states nonchalantly, shrugging before turning his attention to Alec, "Did we have dinner plans?"

His anger bubbles up, and he stalks forward furiously, as if to separate the two only his soul makes him stop by firmly planting himself between them.

"James," the dark blonde ex-spy murmurs, "That is not a good idea."

Freezing in place, he stares at Alec is shock and disbelief, having a hard time understanding this change, this _betrayal_ , how could Alec do that to him?

Growling, he storms past the pair, striding from the house and to the car as anger rushes through him. Alec, his Alec, was getting between him and a target. Wait, not a target, his quartermaster, a kid who knows _far too_ much. What the hell did that arsehole do to Alec to make him act like this? Why would his love do that to him? How dare that _boy_ come between them?

Once in his car he takes off without glancing back, fury pouring off him as he just drives. Maybe he should give up on getting Alec back. Maybe he needs to get rid of Jon. Somehow Jon has made his Alec forget their connection, their bond. Or whoever Jon works for did that. After all, Jon  was probably a kid when it started. He just has to figure out what the programing is and break it.

He's in the middle of nowhere when his car just stalls, engine shutting off as it slows down and stops in the middle of the road. He gets out to check and see what the problem is.

A moment later a sleek black jaguar comes racing up. Stopping just a little ways back and the driver's door swings open.

"I debated about whether to deal with this now or later, but from everything in your file, and everything Alec has told me over the years, waiting until later would be a really bad idea." That young bastard states as he slides out of the car.

"What did you do to my car?" He demands, stalking towards Q.

"Turned it off when I knew we wouldn't have company," the younger man replies with a shrug. "We need to talk. This is the best way I can think to do that since you bolted like a child pitching a fit." It takes him a minute to realize Q has switched to Scottish Gaelic.

Getting in Q's face he hisses, "How dare you?"

Watching him with narrow eyes from behind the black glasses, the quartermaster replies, "You keep hurting our soulmate. I don't take that very well."

He flinches and snarling, "He's mine!"

"No, he's _both_ ours." Jon snaps, "He's been _mine_ since you tried killing him twelve years ago."

Grabbing his gun, he presses it against the younger man's temple snarling, "What have you done to him?"

Hissing in anger, the younger man slams his foot down on the top of his, hand coming up to smash into his elbow as Jon slams an elbow in his sternum, knocking his breath out of him and making him stumble back.

"If you ever pull a fucking gun on me again you better pull the trigger without giving a warning. But you better expect Alec to not take it very fucking well. If for some reason you stop Alec, Aither, Dayesi, and Pyotr will _destroy_ you." Jon hisses quietly, furiously.

He blinks through the pain, trying to catch his breath. He's pretty sure his foot is broken and his elbow is dislocated.

"Get in the car James or I will put you in the car." Jon orders him, pointing at the jaguar, hand coming up to tap against his ear as he remarks. "Ladies, please come get James' car and bring it back to the house."

For a minute he considers not obeying, but something in Jon's eyes makes him decide to listen. Slowly limping to the car, he slides into the passenger's seat, buckling himself in and closing eyes. He's already lost everything. There is nothing left for him. His career is winding down, or so it seems. His soulmate hates him. This boy keeps ruining things for him.  Hell, he can't even claim to be a functioning alcoholic anymore.

Slipping in the driver's seat, Jon glances at him and sighs.

"What am I going to do with you?" The younger man mutters. "You're not as bad off as Alec had been, but you definitely are in worse shape than me."

He doesn't respond.

"What's going through your head?" Jon asks softly, not turning the car on yet.

He still doesn't respond. Right now all he wants is a strong shot of whatever will get him drunk fastest.

Several minutes pass with the quartermaster simply watching him from what he can feel with his eyes still closed, before the younger man's attention changes from him to something else. Probably the earwig he turned on earlier. There is some speaking he doesn't pay attention to and suddenly the car is on, in gear, and they are taking off.

The feeling of speed is why he opens his eyes again, glancing over at the speedometer and startled to see that they are nearly going this car's top speed. Where the hell did Q learn to drive so well and why does he normally insist on public transportation or walking?

"You're not really going to ask that are you?" The quartermaster queries as the car continues down the road far too fast considering where they are at.

"Alec," he mutters, answering his own question. Well, one of his own questions.

"I'm really good at blending and vanishing, not like a spy, but in my own way. It's a useful talent for a hacker to have." Q states as he finally starts slowing down as they turn onto the street Alec's house is on. "Cars are easier to follow than a single person in a crowd if the person has any idea what to do. Alec, Aither, and Dayesi all made sure I know what to do. Each of them improving upon skills dad thought I would need and had taught me long before I met any of them."

Pulling into the garage attached to the house, the door shuts behind them and Q turns the car off before getting out of the vehicle. Walking around to his door, the younger man opens it and comments, "Come on James, Lilya is already inside to see if I broke the bones or just bruised them."

Hissing in annoyance he considers ignoring the quartermaster but like earlier decides that would be a waste of time. Instead he rises, shoving past the smaller man angrily. When did he get to the point where a kid could do this to him? He's the best spy MI6 has, this is getting to be ridiculous.

Inside the house he pauses to think about where to go next, not sure where this Lidya person is. He doesn't have long to wait.

"Mr. Bond," a beautiful dark haired woman murmurs as she step out of one of the side offices he had found boring in original look around the house. "Come in, this will be quick, I know how much Alec dislikes these sort of things and from your expression guess you have issues with them too."

He's pretty sure he's seen her before, he's just trying to remember when and where. Normally he does everything possible to avoid medical, however he has a feeling he's not going to get a chance to here. Besides that, maybe she knows something about whatever has been done to his soulmate to make him forget the bond.

He's surprised to see a tiny black haired woman with vibrant eyes just inside the office, "We're done with the errand Jon asked us to run and will be at the house when you are done here unless you want us to wait?"

"We should be good," the first woman replies, smiling affectionately at the smaller one.

Nodding, the smaller one leaves with barely a glance in his direction.

"Don't mind Aither, she doesn't really like you. I'm Dr. Raskova," the taller one tells him as she motions for him to sit down. "Shoe off and I will x-ray the foot."

Aither, he thinks, trying to remember where he has heard that name before. Jon said it, one of the people who taught the quartermaster self defense. He hadn't expected Aither to be nearly child sized.

Taking his shoe off, he carefully sets his foot on the slide and waits.

The doctor is quick and effective, saying very little to him as she checks first his foot, then his elbow. He tries to get her to talk about any of the people in this house, but it doesn't seem to work, she just smiles at him. When she has the x-rays done, she tells him it's not broken, just very badly bruised and sends him on his way without saying anything else to him. As he closes the door to the office, he hears her murmuring something, but realizes he hadn't seen a phone.

Does the doctor have an earwig too?

Before he gets to think too much on it, the quartermaster emerges from Alec's office, stating, "Come here James." Before slipping back in it.

That's Alec's office, what is the quartermaster doing in there? He wonders as he slowly walks to the door. He's not looking forward to what's to follow. It's probably going to be Alec telling him to leave and not come back or that they are no longer compatible. It's been twenty-one years since he had his soulmate, why this hurts so much he doesn't know.

Slipping in the room, he closes the door behind him and hears the soft click of the lock engaging as he leans against it, ankles crossed as he tries for a bored expression when he is feeling anything but.

"Good, I didn't have to fetch you," the quartermaster remarks from his spot on the divan near the bookshelves.  "I think it's time for a bit of a chat."

He doesn't say anything. Instead he watches, eyes flickering between Alec and Jon, and noticing exactly how tense his soulmate is.  Why is Alec so tense? The dark-haired man must have done or said something to his soul to make him tense.

As he watches, the pair shares a quick look before Q starts speaking, "Let's recap so all of us are on the same page. Twenty-one years ago you two were given dramatically different mission briefs regarding Arkhangelsk. Things did not go as planned according to either brief. Alec got himself blown up and sent into deep cover. James had no clue Alec was still alive. Sixteen years ago Alec was informed James was dead, and shifted from deep cover to in truth as Janus. Twelve years ago the pair of you came face to face for the first time in nine years. Managed to not communicate, and went on to try and kill each other while in shock. Following that Valentin brought Alec home to me, and the next year was spent in recovery."

The quartermaster pauses, standing and crossing the smaller space to Alec's side without actually looking where he is going because those glasses framed eyes are on him. Once at the one-time spy’s side, the dark-haired man starts speaking again, leaning against the chair so Alec's left and his right side are pressed together.

"That was a rather long year. In the twelve years since James continued to work as a spy, sometimes being a complete and utter fool in the process. We lived in Russia, France, America, and now Britain. Three years ago I decided to take over the quartermaster position after we had several discussions about whether to reach out to you James. In the end, I was the one who talked him into it." The quartermaster's lips quirk upwards for a moment in a sardonic smile. "Which leads us to where we are now."

"Where's that?" he demands, angry at the bald faced manner in which the boy is speaking and how easily Alec seems to draw comfort from them touching each other.

"Standing in my study, dealing with years of issues and not expecting it to work as well as I want because you're both hard headed, stubborn spies." Jon retorts calmly. "Since showing works better than telling with Double-O’s from what I have seen-" the younger man falls quiet, straightening up and moving the hand that had ended up on Alec's shoulder to the buttons on the front of his shirt, "-let's do this."

Frowning, his eyes jump between the pair, noticing that Alec is even tenser now than he was at the beginning of this. That doesn't make sense. Unless whatever the quartermaster is planning on showing him is why Alec is tense? He hates feeling wrong footed yet that is exactly where he is right now.

Quickly and quietly the younger man unfastens each of the buttons before unfastening the wrists on the shirt. Turning towards Alec, the quartermaster arches one questioning brow, waiting for a nod before stripping the shirt off the rest of the way, turning to face him, and waiting.

Blinking, it takes him longer than he appreciates to understand exactly what he is seeing. During the first minute he thinks Jon has a body suit tattoo. During the second he realizes that it's not a tattoo, it's soulmarks. Not just soulmarks, but ones he is intimately familiar with since he has the same ones. The tree takes up most of the smaller man's body, starting below the top of Jon's slacks and coming up to stop just below the collarbone and armpit. It wraps around, touching the storm cloud on the front, almost as if the branches are slowly emerging from the storm like green lightning gave form. He's got a feeling that if he was to look at the younger man's back, it does the same thing.

Not possible. He never found his second soulmate. Always figured that his second was dead. This entire time they were together?

The next thing he realizes, Jon is crouched in front of him, shirt back on, hands lightly feathering along the side of his jaw as the smaller man murmurs comfortingly.

Blinking, he opens his mouth several times to say something just for it to snap shut when nothing comes out.

"Alec will be right back,  I didn't want him having a panic attack too and sent him for something stronger to drink than what I keep in here." The quartermaster informs him calmly, "Feel like you can stand yet? The sofa is a lot more comfortable than the floor."

"Get your hands off me," he snarls as he replays what he had seen in his head. They are both his soulmates? What? How? Why?

Quietly, Q does as requested, sitting back on his heels, still watching him with a concerned expression.

What right does Q have to act concerned now? Pushing up using the wall, he walks over to the desk and sprawls in the chair.

Jon stays closer to the door, and when Alec comes back in, says something too quiet for him to hear before slipping from the room.

Alec turns towards him, green eyes full of more emotion than he's ready to handle, so he is thankful when his love says nothing and just grabs a pair of tumblers for them. They can talk later. Not just yet.


	127. A Long Time Coming

Alec's POV  
When James first slides down the door, eyes wide and lost, breath coming out in short bursts, white spots dance before his eyes. This is his fault, he did this to-

"Alec-love, my Sansha, you didn't do this, it's not your fault." Jon reassures him in Russian, cupping his face and gently stroking his jaw with his thumbs. "It's alright love, everything will be alright. Why don't you go get something you two can share since I don't keep hard liquor in here?"

He nods slowly at the suggestion, turning his head to press his lips against his Rowan's palm before standing and doing just that.

After fetching the vodka, he returns to the study. He finds Jon standing near the door while James is seated in his chair from earlier.

"Rowan?" He murmurs softly.

"It's all right, Sansha," his companion replies sofly, hand lightly brushing his. "He's uncomfortable with me. I understand that. I'm going to go see if Dayesi or Aither would be willing to spar for a bit."

He nods, wanting to comfort his lover but knowing Jon would not appreciate it right now.

A moment later the smaller man slips from the room and he turns to James. Even though it's been years he can still read the turmoil and emotion rushing through James. He considers asking something, anything, but decides against it. Instead he heads to the desk and fetches a pair of tumblers from the bottom drawer.

As he pours their drinks, his mind cycles through so many questions that he wants to ask, to demand answers for, yet he's not going to do that. Passing the second tumbler to James, he settles on the edge of the desk, sipping at his. They spend several minutes sipping at the drinks and he refills their glasses several times.

James downs his tumbler at last, setting it on the desk and looking at him with stark pain filling his eyes. "You never tried to find me, to speak with me, anything, nothing."

He shrugs, answering,  "You killed me, James."

"You're not dead," his soulmate retorts, "I'm staring at you."

"The only reason I am alive is Jon's father spotted my soulmark through a tear in my shirt." He responds quietly. "You dropped me and left me for dead. As far as you cared I was dead."

James flinches before snarling, "You betrayed me! I thought you were dead from Arkhangelsk!"

He snaps back, "You abandoned me! I was told you were dead in 1994."

Both of them glare at each other without saying anything else. They are both are breathing heavily. Somewhere along the line the two of them stood up, gotten up so close in each other’s faces they are nearly nose to nose.

He steps back, trying to calm himself down, because this not helping.

Jon was right, James didn't know about then and thought he had died in truth, not just to go undercover.

"Why didn't you respond to the code?" He demands, still furious.

"You never said it!" James snaps angrily.

"Yes I did!" He snarls, "I made sure to say it! I was told you were dead and there you were. So I said it! I made damn fucking sure I said it!"

It's not until he falls silent that he realizes that he switched to Russian at some point. Thankfully James knows Russian.

James just stares at him in disbelief.

"You didn't, I would have-" James starts, voice trailing off as he nearly falls in the chair behind him, almost whispering as he finishes. "I would have heard."

Seeing how defeated his Storm is, he takes another step backwards. "I did, unless I am completely wrong it was ‘blue storm’."

James flinches in the chair, a combination of fury and regret pouring off him in equal measures. "It was. ‘Blue storm’ for if you were deep undercover. ‘Jade light’ for if I was."

Taking a deep breath, he mutters, "You didn't respond. The only option I had was to continue the course I was on. At the end, you tried to kill me."

"Alec." James mumbles, pushing himself back to his feet. " _Alec_."

Closing his eyes, he stays perfectly still as he tries to calm down. He needs to calm down. Yeah, he already told himself that before, it hasn't worked yet. Right now he really wishes Jon was still here, because he just wants to wrap himself around the one person who hasn't abandoned him or betrayed him, even unwittingly.

"He was right? We were set up?" James asks as he steps closer according to what he can hear. "Alec?"

"Jon normally is right. It's an annoying habit he's had for the last twelve years," he replies, eyes still closed.

James closes the distance between them, stopping when they are nose to nose again. "Alec," his Storm repeats, " _Alec_. I'm sorry. So sorry. I didn't know. I thought I caused your death. Then I killed you. It was my fault, all of it."

He opens his eyes, not startled to have James' blue ones so close to him.

"James," he mumbles.

He's not sure which one of them moves first, but the next thing he knows, they wrapped around each other. Neither is saying anything, instead their arms squeeze tight, heads tucking between shoulders and neck.


	128. Sparring and Storms

Jon's POV  
After leaving Alec with James he heads directly to the garage in order to collect Alec's motorbike. Should he be using it in the mood he is in? Probably not. Is that going to stop him? Definitely not.

Slipping the helmet on, he presses his thumb to the scanner he installed and uses his key to turn it on before taking off like a bat out of hell. Because it is a bike he has customized, it can go far faster than one would think. Emits a signal to make sure lights are always green for it, and doesn't register on police scanners for speed. Possibly not the best use of his talents, but his Sansha appreciated them as they were gifts done for Christmas the last three years.

Instead of heading straight to the ladies’ home, he heads to the motorway where he races until he feels calm enough to be around other people, only then does he make his way to their home.

When he gets there, he doesn't even reach the door before it is swinging open and Aither is striding out, dark hair already pulled back into a fighting braid and dressed in her favorite street clothes.

"Do I get to beat the shit out of him?" she demands, low voice nearly a hiss in her anger.

"No Aither," he answers her with a small chuckle, "However I would enjoy a good fight right now."

He chuckles again, shaking his head as he does so, "You know your American accent shows through more when you’re pissy?"

"So?" she retorts as they walk to the basement. "Doesn't make me wrong."

"Didn't say it did," he replies "I kicked James arse in front of the Double-O's, executives, potentials, and agents today. Felt the urge to make a point. It probably didn't help our already strained relationship. I also showed him the soulmark."

"I thought the goal was to improve the relationship, not make it worse?" Lilya asks as they come off the steps descending  into the basement.

Shrugging he answers, "I refuse to let him think I can be walked on. If it makes my point to him and the other Double-O's, well, I'm not planning to stick around more than a year or two, but I refuse to allow them to act like I'm less."

Both ladies nod in understanding.

"Wasn't the previous Q a member of the military first?" Aither asks, motioning him toward the weapons rack.

"Yeah, a major, most of the agents were military before being recruited, a lot of the older branch members were military as well." He responds with a shrug, "It's part of why they don't think I'm as good. I look too young and I've never been in the military. Actually there is a large portion of my history they will never be able to look into, let me tell you that annoys the hell out of them. Now let's not talk about work because that'll just piss me off further."

"Pick a blade and let's play," Dayesi calls from the mats, "Between the five of us, we should be able to give you plenty of stress release. Pyotr is in a meeting with Dima and that other one."

"Viktor?" he asks, remembering the meeting and considering turning his earwig on in case he was needed.

His hand is halfway to his ear when all three ladies state firmly, "No."

Blinking, his hand drops to his side, and he mutters, "What?"

"I have the computer set to notify us if his heart rate spikes or flatlines, also have it set to tell us if we need to turn the wigs on. So leave it off, we'll deal with it if something comes up." Aither tells him, hand on him, other hand flipping one of her daggers.

"Okay," he replies, eyes going over the available blades and selecting a pair to play with. Then deciding on a few other ones as well that he tucks into his clothes because he damned well knows Aither at least carries two to four hidden on her at all times.

Once he's ready, he joins the assassin and hacker on the mat, holding his first picks in his hands.

"No permanent injuries or anything that will make work impossible for the next forty-eight hours," he states.

"Deal," Dayesi agrees with a sharp nod of her head, her tight onyx curls bouncing.

Aither just smirks, darting forward and to the right with one of her daggers already out and the fight is on. The next several minutes are spent in a whirl of blades and movement. The three of them falling into a dance that could be deadly for anyone not familiar with its steps. Only they have been doing this or similar for years.

Malcolm is the first of the others to join the fray, randomly attacking whichever one is closest, and nearly losing some fingers when both Aither and Dayesi turn on him. Of course that means he gets a chance to slip in and nick Aither's shoulder blade before dancing out of the way of her knives as she whirls on him.

With four, it goes from a semi-organized to a chaos, for while the ladies and him have long established patterns and fighting tactics, adding an extra person who doesn't spar with them as often changes the dynamics. Of course Aither and Dayesi team up together, forcing him to work with Malcolm but that's alright with him. It's good to sometimes practice working with someone unfamiliar.

What finally stops the match is the sickening sound of a bone breaking as his side-kick meets Sparks' hand when the tall red-haired fighter tries to join the fray.

"Fuck," the Russian-American snarls.

The four of them immediately spring backwards, putting space between each other while Lilya comes to check on the blonde.

"Plus side, he heals quickly," Aither remarks, lips twitching.

"Stop it, you were an illegal underground fighter for years, don't give me that sass. I deal with assassins who behave better and everyone knows assassins are the _worst_ patients!" Lilya snaps when Sparks starts to whine and pull away from where she is putting a few fingers back in joint.

He has to bite back a laugh because he knows exactly who she is referring to.

Like that all the stress he's been feeling fades away.

"Better now?" Aither queries as he moves back to the rack to put the knives back after scooping up the ones he dropped on the floor.

"Yeah, though now I feel like I need a shower," he answers, glancing at his clothes.

Laughing, Dayesi tells him, "There's a change of clothes for you in the guest bedroom next to our room, I got them out of our emergency closet."

"Thanks," he responds before leaving the room to head back upstairs.

The trip through the house is peaceful, almost too quiet after the adrenaline rush of the match. He wonders how Alec is doing, but refuses to call and interrupt. He knows those two need time to work out what's going on between them. Hopefully the end result doesn't include him losing his long time love and partner. He doesn't think he will, but it's still a thought there at the back of his mind.

In the bathroom he strips automatically, barely paying attention as he takes everything off, and even remembers to take the earwig out. Reaching over, he turns the shower on, still not paying attention to anything in particular when out of the corner of his eye, his side catches his attention. Not the rowan, that stopped changing years ago, except to occasionally shift colors with the seasons, being darker colored in the summer months and lighter in the winter. It's the storm cloud, the one that started connecting with the rowan nearly three years ago when he decided to reunite his Sansha with the third member of their triad.

Putting his glasses back on, he lifts his arm, carefully studying all of the mark that he can see. Where before the storm was sickly, and damaged, he can already see the changes in it. The clouds seem to have expanded, covering more skin than they ever have and actually looking almost healthy. Instead of the lightning seeming angry and sick, it is vibrant and alive, as if there is energy pulsing through it. No longer are they a sickly green-yellow color, but vibrant gold and palest purple.

Hesitantly, he traces over the mark, biting his lower lip as he tries not to worry about what this means for him. Instead he chooses to focus on the fact the rowan and storm seem to be blending more, with a few of the branches stemming from the lightning bolts, shifting from vibrant gold amber to rich browns and greens.

Is this good? He wonders, forcing himself to look away and drop his hand. What does the fact they are blending mean?

Taking his glasses back off and climbing in the shower, his mind is rapidly going through the facts he knows about the marks and each of his soulmates, trying to determine what’s the meaning behind the changes and eventually deciding it would just be best to go home.

When he gets out of the shower, he quickly dries and dresses, trying not to chuckle at the outfit that his long time friend had selected, and he knows it was Aither because it's a pair of tight faded to dark blue jeans, Metallica shirt from Ride the Lightning, and heavy leather jacket that he's sure is actually Alec's because it's too big for him.

Shaking his head, he quickly transfers the things from his pockets, puts the earwig back in and his glasses back on before leaving the bathroom with his suit folded on the counter.

Heading to the kitchen, he's unsurprised to see Falco cooking.

"Where're the ladies?" he asks with a smile.

"Aither and Dayesi are showering together, Lidiya was heading to her office," the sniper responds as he keeps cooking. "Things better?"

He nods once sharply, "Yes, they are. Talk to you later," he doesn't give the other man a chance to reply before he is gone, heading to the office to bid Lilya goodbye and ask her to relay thanks to the other two.

Just before he leaves her office, she tells him softly, "It'll all work out, you mean far too much to our stubborn Alec for him to let you go."

Glancing back, he smiles, just the smallest twitch of his lips, and answers, "I hope so."

"Take one of our cars, I'll have Sparks move the motorbike in the garage and you can fetch it later, or have him fetch it later." She suggests, "It started to rain while you were showering."

He nods, catching the keys she throws in his direction with a slightly firmer smile before finally making his exit. It was definitely a good choice to come visit the ladies.


	129. Warm Sight

Jon's POV  
The trip home is a lot faster than the trip to the ladies house. When he finally gets there he's been gone for hours, almost as much time as when he pulls a long shift at Q-Branch. Though it is only a little surprising that Alec hasn’t contacted him to make sure everything is alright. Normally his Sansha would have done that already at least two times. It is not a sign that he is being replaced, only that his spies are finally clearing the air between them. At least that’s his hope.

After parking the car, he just sits there for a minute, staring up at his nearly dark house before taking a deep breath and forcing himself from the car. He needs to see what's going on, even if he does nothing more than that, he still needs to go in to do so.

Squaring his shoulders and reminding himself he orders spies around on a regular bases, he heads into the house. The first place he checks is the office where he had last seen the pair. They're not there. The next place he checks is the private living room, the one that is primarily for them and not for company. Sure enough, that’s where he finds them lost deep in conversation, stretched out together on the sofa. Both are still fully dressed except their shoes but there is next to no space between them. Their bodies are wrapped around each other, almost clinging to the other.

For the briefest moment he considers joining them, but decides it would be better to let them reconnect and finish whatever conversation they are still having. This is their time to be together, he’s not going to interrupt it.

Instead he quietly leaves the room, quite sure neither noticed before heading to his bedroom. At the door he considers whether he wants to slip in there or go in a guest room, but decides that it's his house, he can use the bedroom that is his if he wants. This way when Alec is ready to join him, it won’t be hard, whenever that happens to be.

Shaking his head at such childish thoughts, he goes inside and changes into lounge clothing. Unless there is an emergency he is not going into Q-Branch for tonight or tomorrow, he'll return to regular work the day after. Right now he has a book he is going to read, and maybe he will do some work from his laptop if he feels inclined.

He knows that M wants to know why he scheduled himself off for the two days. He’s well aware that she’s not happy with that. Particularly since her number one agent, James, is off too. He knows this because he checked her files and cameras, those ones he’s probably not supposed to know how to access. She put James on leave, not because she wanted him on leave but in hopes he would deal with whatever is causing his problems right now since James refuses to see anyone in psych.

Depending on how things go, he may notify her that they are soulmates. However he will not be telling her about Alec. That’s not her business unless his Sansha wants it to be her business.

Settling in bed with a book, he lets the rest of the world drop away. Hours pass as he finishes his book, wishing for a fresh tea but not wanting to go get it. Times like this is when he misses having a personal assistant around at night, but he decided long ago he really doesn't need one.

When he finally sets his book aside, and relaxes back into the pillows of the bed, his mind decides to bring forth exactly how the two spies had looked curled around each other on the sofa. They looked comfortable, right even. If the storm cloud on his side was anything to go by, they were finally figuring out how to do that very important thing that seems to be a pain in the arse for most people to do: communicate.

From the pictures he has seen over the years he knows that James has gone through even more physical changes than Alec. For one thing James is two inches shorter now than the last time they saw each other, due to the time the spy got caught and both his legs broken during a nasty interrogation before he'd been pulled out by rescue. Black hair has lightened to almost brown-blonde over the years, probably a side effect of stress but refusing to go gray or James using dye to keep it from being actual gray. He's stockier too, as if instead of getting fatter as he got older, he just changed how his muscle tone carried on his body. There are difference to his face as well, caused by surgeries to correct very obvious scars from a different time he got caught and a team had to be sent in to get James out, just barely making it that time.

Giving a subtle shake of his head, he shoves those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the fact he knows they are simply happy to be together again as judging by the fact their soulmark is finally starting to look healthy. That they are together after twenty-one years. He’s had Alec the last twelve, surely he’ll be fine for a night without.

Sleep, he thinks, he needs to get some sleep. Everything will be better in the morning. He'll be better prepared to deal with the two spies, his soulmates, after he has rested.

Picturing the pair curled up together, the warmth and affection clearly between them, he drifts off into an uneasy sleep. A little bit later he wakes up only long enough to realize Alec is crawling into bed with him, long body wrapping around his as they get situated. The second time he falls asleep, it's much easier and far more restful.


	130. Reassurance

Alec's POV  
He hears when Jon stops in, almost expects his Rowan to ask to join them, but the youngest of their triad does not. Instead he hears the door shut and the nearly silent footfalls as Jon walks away. For a little while he stays with James, enjoying the closeness and the fact he's got James back.

Eventually he stands up, careful not to disturb James too much as he does so. He shushes the spy back to sleep, waiting until his Storm drifts back off before leaving the room.

Heading upstairs, he finds Jon in their bed, curled around his pillow.

Stripping out of his clothes, he quickly joins his Rowan, crawling in bed and wrapping himself around the smaller frame. Jon makes noises and moves as if he is waking up but he quickly soothes his love back into sleep. Considering how crazy the last few days have been, he's sure that Jon's not gotten enough rest.

It's four hours later when he is woken up by Jon crawling out of bed. He opens his eyes just enough to see that his hacker is heading to the bathroom before he closes his eyes again though he doesn't go back to sleep. When Jon doesn't come back to bed, but he doesn't hear the water running or the door open, he gives up on resting and stretches before climbing out of bed himself.

Heading to the bathroom, he goes to check on the smaller man, finding him sitting on the edge of the tub, staring off into space with a rather lost look on his face.

"Jon?" he murmurs, not wanting to startle the dark-haired man.

Blinking at him, his Rowan rubs his eye, replying, "Sorry Alec, didn't mean to wake you," in Scottish Gaelic, a sure sign that something is wrong.

The only time his Rowan uses Scottish Gaelic is when he is being comforted or needs comforted. The rest of the time his love uses one other languages they converse in, mostly the language of the area they are in. As they are currently in London, they have been mostly using English, though several years of Russian have them using that from time to time out of habit. French is the language used least of all between them, and he doesn't know Arabic even though Jon does.

"Where are your glasses?" he asks, moving closer to where his Vansha is seated.

"Nightstand," Jon replies absently, "I took them off when I crawled into bed and didn't think I needed them to go to the loo."

"Why are you sitting in here?" he asks kneeling in front of the tub.

There are several long moments between when he asks and when Jon finally answers. "I didn't want to wake you up. I knew that going to office would wake you up, almost as much as me sitting in the room saying nothing." His soulmate's voice drops as he mutters, "I didn't want to be a bother."

"Jon," he murmurs comfortingly. "You are many things but a bother is not one of them." Cupping the hackers face, he presses a gentle kiss to Jon's lips, "You're kind." Feathers light kisses across his jaw, "Brilliant." Moves upwards to lightly scattering kisses across his cheek, "Passionate." Moves on to the other side, "Gentle."  Over to the ear, nibbling on it to get a chuckle, rather than arousal, "Loyal."

A soft huff of laughter escapes the smaller man as he ducks his head down, burying it in his shoulder, "Alec." There is amusement in Jon's tone once more, rather than that sadness he has hated from the first time he heard it even before knowing they are soulmates.

"Come to bed," he suggests against his love's ear.

Instead of moving to get up, he Vansha snuggles just a little bit closer right where he is sitting. Concerned because this is not normal behavior for Jon, he wraps his arms around the smaller man and waits for Jon to say whatever is on his mind.

"Are you leaving with him?" the words are soft, and would have been missed if not for the fact they are spoken so close to his ear.

" _No_ ," he answer as empathically as possible.

All these years he had worried that Jon would want to leave him for James after every mission that his Rowan had run for his Storm. Apparently he hadn't been the only one with that concern.

"Come to bed," he repeats, arms tightening further.

Jon nods slowly, agreeing but not moving from the spot he's in.

He smiles, the slightest up curve of his lips, pressing a kiss to the hackers temple before standing up and taking his smaller lover with him. It's a good thing their height difference isn't that much or that probably would have gotten uncomfortable fast. Once they are standing, he leads the smaller man from the bathroom, heading to their bed where he sits Jon down on the edge of the bed.

"May I take care of you, Vanyusha?" he asks softly, switching to Russian, meeting his lover's gaze with his own.

Hazel-green eyes study him before Jon slowly nods, never breaking their contact.

He'd been holding the hacker's hands so he slowly slides his fingers up slender arms. He's always found it fascinating how slender and sleek Jon is, yet how strong the smaller man is. Who'd guess someone who doesn't look like he could survive a good windstorm could physically be as strong as he is? Not him, even though he knows better, just because of how Jon downplays his talents. Instead of going for strength, Jon goes for speed and forethought.

"Jon, you never fail to surprise me," he comments stepping forward as his lover spreads his knees a little wider.

"Why?" Jon queries in Russian, tipping his head curiously, biting his lower lip as he does so.

"Because to look at you in your jumpers and slacks, no one would ever guess exactly how strong or intelligent or loyal you are." His hands keep sliding, up over shoulders, along thin collarbones, "I know I never guessed any of that, despite the evidence shown."

The smaller man's breath hitches when his thumbs lightly stroke over the hollows on either side of his throat, finger tips hooking on the collar of the pajama shirt and pulling upwards slowly. Their eye contact breaks only when the shirt slides over younger man's head.

Once the shirt is off, he drops it on the floor, hands going back to Jon's skin, now running along his chest, stroking the lightly defined muscles and tracing the soulmarks there, focusing on their tree rather than the storm or where it connects together.

Lightly pushing on the smaller man's chest so he will scoot backwards on the bed, he follows his soulmate, bracketing the smaller man with his legs.

"The time when I would have gone with James without question ended the day he dropped me off that satellite after not answering our code," he tells Jon seriously. His hands skim back upwards to cup the smaller man's face, "I'm not leaving you. He can either get to know you as someone other than Q, the man who runs his missions, or he can go about his life and forget I'm still alive."

Vansha stares at him in shock, as if having a hard time believing that statement.

"For the first few years, every time you told me you ran a mission for James I feared you would leave me to chose him," Alec confesses softly, it's not something he likes admitting to. During the early years of their relationship he had been highly suspicious and spent most of the time expecting the other shoe to drop. After all, the soulmate he knew and had cared about had tried killing him, and the soulmate he just learned about was nearly a kid. Though Jon had quickly proven he wasn't as immature as one would expect for someone his age.

"Why would I do that? You're mine," Jon queries, eyes drawing together as he frowns.

He smiles, stroking those frown lines away, "Exactly, _yours_ , just as you're mine."

He spends several minutes simply stroking the hacker's body, enjoying the difference between them. Like the situation with James,  he had spent several months of their relationship convinced Jon would leave him because of the scars. During that time, he was bothered any time his love had touched him like this, but now he delights in it just as much as he delights in being the one doing the touching.

Eventually Jon gets tired of being so passive and sits up, shoving him backwards a bit and making it so they are chest to chest with him pretty much sitting on Vansha's lap.

Slightly calloused fingers dance over his skin, following no pattern that he can tell but that's perfectly fine.

Since they are now so close together, he presses their lips together, sucking Jon's lower lip between his.

Moaning softly, the younger man's mouth opens beneath his, and he lets go of his lover's lip to deepen the kiss. Their tongues curl around each other, teasing and tasting.

Hours are spent teasing and tasting, touching and connecting, simply being. It's slow and affectionate, gentle and sweet, reaffirming. By the time both finally come, they're covered in sweat. Both of them have fresh marks covering their skin from blunt nails and sharp bites. It's one set of marks he's not going to mind having on his skin.

They shower after, taking their time washing each other, before tumbling back into bed. Barely dry to curl around each other, Jon's smaller body tucked tightly against his, legs tangled together, arms tight around his love.

The upcoming months are going to be interesting, he doesn't know what their future is going to bring. Maybe James will understand what he said tonight and accept it. Choose to get to know Jon and bond with him, for them to build a relationship like a proper triad. Maybe James won't understand and his actions will cause them to need to vanish. Between Jon and himself that's more than possible for them, they have enough homes around the world they could do it easily. Or James can't decide and they avoid each other for the time while the his Storm figures things out.

No matter what, their lives are definitely going to change but it's not going to change anything between him and Jon.


	131. Thinking About the Future

James’ POV  
He awakes just a little bit after Alec leaves, the sofa having gone cold once it is only his body heating it. Sitting up and stretching, he glances around the shadowy room as he thinks about the previous evening. They had spent hours together, just him and Alec, curled on this sofa talking about the years apart. First the years following Arkhangelsk, then the years following GoldenEye.

He had fallen asleep wrapped up in Alec, his love, his soul. Only he woke alone. He understands that the other spy probably joined Q in bed.

Q. . . Jon. . .

He doesn't know what to think of Q.

A large part of him wants to hate the younger man for keeping him from Alec. Another part of him understands that it wasn't actually Jon's fault. He has to admit his part of it. Even if he hates to do so. What he now understands is Alec will not leave Jon. That means if he wants to keep Alec, he has to keep Jon. Can he do that? _Yes!_ He can do anything, _will_ do anything, to keep Alec. If there is any possible way for him not to lose Alec he will do it.

Well then, he needs to make sure that Jon is willing to accept him. How to go about that? He should probably start by talking to the hacker. Spending time getting to know the boffin and letting the quartermaster get to know him would be helpful in that goal. He should also try to get to know Alec and Jon together. It's not hard to realize that they have their own dynamic that will affect how their relationship as a triad forms.

He's surprised when a short, dark skinned woman appears in the door, body outlined by the hall light.

Her eyes narrow on him as she steps into the room and closes the door behind herself. "I want you to listen to me closely." She states, her accent carrying hints of Cuba and Russia.

He doesn't move, but watches her closely as she comes closer.

"If you hurt either of them," she begins, stopping so she is just out of range without getting off the sofa. Her eyes are hard, the same type of deadliness he is used to seeing when he looks in the mirror or at another Double-O. "Well, I'm sure you are bright enough to comprehend why that wouldn't be a good idea."

He nods slowly, not in agreement but acknowledgement.

She lifts her head, lips curving slightly in a satisfied smirk as if she got exactly what she wants before she turns on her heel and is gone before he even has a chance to move.

Who the hell is that? he wonders as he stares at the door she just exited through. She acts like a Double-O but she's not one. He would know her. So where did she get her training from and where did Alec or Jon find her at? He'll have to ask later. Right now he has focus on the important issue. That issue being joining Alec and Jon to form a triad, they're soulmates.

Soulmates. . .

He never expected to get Alec back, let alone find his second soulmate with Alec.

Jon's his second soulmate.

That just about boggles the mind.

Alec is his first soulmate, and they are both spies. Jon is his second soulmate, and the younger man is his quartermaster. The skill in which the hacker orders everyone around makes him wonder if he has practice doing that elsewhere. Did he work for a different organization before coming to work for MI6? Did the Janus network survive the GoldenEye incident? He hasn't heard of them still being active, but then he is currently questioning a lot of things.

Who betrayed them? He wonders, who nearly destroyed their lives? Who is he going to destroy?

No. Wait. He can't focus on that yet. First he needs to focus on his triad. He has a triad. That's not something he ever expected. His parents had belonged to a triad, but the third member of the triad was from another one originally. He belongs to a complete soulmate triad. Alec, Jon, and James, he thinks. Soulmate triad, a thunderstorm and tree, probably a rowan considering that's what he's heard Alec call the boffin.

Excitement rushes through him, he's got Alec back. His love, his soul, the person who understands him better than anyone else in the world is alive. He can have his love back. All he has to do is accept that he comes with their other soulmate. He can do that. They have a future. The three of them. All he has to do is convince Jon of that.

Smirking, he thinks, I'm the best Double-O for a reason. All I have to do is put those skills to use wooing Jon. It's time to generate a plan for seduction.


	132. Breakfast Together

Jon's POV  
He wakes up with strong arms holding him close and the familiar scent of his Sansha. Snuggling closer, he reflects on the previous night for a little bit before his bladder insists on him leaving the warmth and comfort of his lover.

"Lemme up," he mumbles against the firm chest as he wiggles out of Alec's grasp. "Loo."

Groaning, the older man presses a quick kiss to his temple before releasing him.

Scooting to the edge of the bed, he grabs his glasses and slides them on his nose before bolting to the attached bathroom.

When he is done, he washes his hands, absently glancing at the mirror and freezing in place when he spots the rather noticeable mark forming on the underside of his jaw. It's a good thing he has today off barring any emergencies because there is no way he is going to cover that. Of course, he probably wouldn't cover it anyways because his soulmate is the one who marked him and he is always pleased with those sort of displays of possessiveness.

Returning to the bedroom, he heads to the closet as he comments, "I'm going to go make breakfast, want me to tell you when it's done?"

Alec just burrows back into the bedding, green eyes mostly closed as the older man answers, "I'll be down in a bit and help."

Grabbing a pair of pajama bottoms and one of Alec's tee-shirts, he quickly dresses before stopping by the bed to press a light kiss to the older man's forehead. "Whenever you're ready," he murmurs, straightening up and heading to the door barefoot.

In the kitchen, he glances about, trying to decide what sort of breakfast he wants to make. Eventually he settles on making a little of everything and setting up a buffet. Whatever they don't eat he will call and have George give whatever is left to the closest shelter. Turning some music on, he sets to cooking breakfast. Eggs and bacon will be last to get cooked, mostly because they are the quickest things. First up are pancakes, muffins, hash browns, and ham. Then sausage patties and links, French toast, cinnamon rolls. Last thing to be made are omelets, eggs, bacon, and diced up fruit.

He is in the process of putting the last part of the food on the serving table when his spies come wandering in.

Alec stops by the table and shakes his head chuckling softly.

"You can grab the coffee and tea," he tells his long time lover, "And orange juice, I'm wanting some orange juice."

Alec nods, heading into the kitchen.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as James moves closer, blue eyes scanning his features as if the older man is trying to figure something out.

"What can I do?" James eventually asks, stopping just a little bit back.

Forcing himself to not to flinch as James moves to stand behind him, he answers, "You can help Alec or grab the dishes."

The blue-eyed man steps closer to him, close enough he can feel James' body heat as he agrees, "Alright."

A moment later the spy moves away, and he hears James pass into the kitchen.

His head dips as he takes a slow breath. Alec's not leaving him. He's not being pushed aside. He believes his Sansha when he says that.

By the time his spies get back, everything is on the table and ready to be dug into.

James is carrying the dishes carefully and Alec has the coffee pot, tea pot, and orange juice decanter on a tray.

"Do you cook like this often?" James queries as he sets the plates down only to pick one up for himself.

"Only when stressed," Alec answers when he stays quiet trying to decide what to say.

The blue-eyed spy nods, studying him again.

After the three of them get their food, they settle into seats at the table. Alec takes the head, he takes his customary spot on the left, and James sits across from him on the right. Normally Alec would sit on  the left with him, but he knows that his Sansha is trying not to pick between them.

"This is really good," the blue-eyed spy comments when he gets up for a second plate.

"Thank you," he replies quietly.

Several more minutes are spent in uneasy quiet. Normally they'd discuss the plans for the day, but he's not feeling up to starting a discussion right now, so he's just dealing with the silence.

"I'm not going to get between you," James eventually states, "Actually..." the spy's voice trails off.

He says nothing. While he knows they need to talk, he's really not ready for the rollercoaster it's going to be.

"Actually," James starts again, "I'd like to try and make this work."

His hand freezes halfway to his mouth, fork full of rapidly cooling eggs as his mind processes that statement. Did James just say what he thought he just said? That seems unlikely. Slowly, he sets the fork down and looks up, directly at the blue-eyed spy as he works out the best response. It was never this hard to think of something to say to Alec, so why is it so hard now?

Alec is glancing between them, expression nearly blank as his Sansha waits to see how he will respond.  

"I'm sure you don't believe me but I'm not lying." James comments calmly, voice very serious. "I lost Alec twice because of bad communication skills and almost lost him a third time by being stubborn. I don't want to risk that. I'm drawn to you. A feeling I didn't get until I actually stopped to think about exactly what you showed me yesterday. I'd like to see if this,” there’s a bit of a pause, “us,” the spy motions to the three of them, drawing attention to the fact he’s fidgeting with his hands, “can work."

He blinks at the spy, not sure what to say. That was far more open than he expected. So much so that he questions the sincerity behind it, even if he doesn't do so aloud. Still, Alec has wanted his storm back for years, even if he only asked for James when sick or injured, so he is willing to try.

"Alright," he answers slowly, nodding once and saying nothing else.

Alec's smile makes it well worth it, and if James happens to hurt his Sansha again, well Alec and James  aren't the only spies and assassins he knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, thank you to [NoOrdinarySouthernGirl,](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOrdinarySouthernGirl/pseuds/NoOrdinarySouthernGirl) [Zephyrfox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox) and [Simply_Isnt_On](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Simply_Isnt_On/pseuds/Simply_Isnt_On) for all your help and support while I was writing this. Thank you to aunt_zelda for the musical playlists that can be found on [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL1wtkJXzDLH_0dk_KBpJB6uz40sMg1d70) or [8Tracks](http://8tracks.com/aunt_zelda/different-paths-triad-verse-big-bang-2016-mix)
> 
> Follow the series in order to get updates when I finally start posting Paths to Home and New Paths, New Paths is the second half of Different Paths with the boys figuring out their life and working through becoming a proper triad.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr about my writing [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/money)
> 
> I love reviews, comments, and any other sort of communication, feel free to stop in to say hi

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Legends in the Multiverse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9525170) by [Zephyrfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox)
  * [Diverted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10992330) by [jaimistoryteller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimistoryteller/pseuds/jaimistoryteller)
  * [Lost in the Echo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11010018) by [jaimistoryteller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimistoryteller/pseuds/jaimistoryteller)
  * [Touch Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11477334) by [Zephyrfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox)
  * [Shifting Lives](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13932063) by [Zephyrfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox)




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